


A Vision Softly Creeping.

by the17thtearoom



Series: Miraculous: Darker Origins. [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Animals, Batfamily (DCU), Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Presents, Christmas Tree, Daminette December, Dogs, Dreams and Nightmares, Drinking, Established Relationship, F/M, Fire, Fluff, Gymnastics, Hijinks & Shenanigans, It's pizza time, Karaoke, Lila Rossi Lies, Mistletoe, Moonlight, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, New Years, Prompt Fic, Secret Santa, Snow, Snowball Fight, Spider-Man Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-01-27 01:09:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21383602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the17thtearoom/pseuds/the17thtearoom
Summary: Chapter 15: There is nothing but Marinette, Damian, and the stars above.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Series: Miraculous: Darker Origins. [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1520387
Comments: 140
Kudos: 560





	1. A Vision Softly Creeping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katakira_Wolves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katakira_Wolves/gifts), [lil_fangirl27](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_fangirl27/gifts).
**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug teaches Lynx Maleun the ropes of being a hero in Paris. A tumble is taken, hands linger in places, and Marinette is always Perfectly Fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was done as a prompt fic ("gymnastics") for dear, sweet Gloria! Title from Simon & Garfunkle's Sound of Silence.
> 
> [Find me on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/VeryLucyJane)

"Come back to Gotham with me during the summer," Damian says one night.

The two of them are on a rooftop, bathed in moonlight. They're practicing; he has only been Lynx Maleun for a few days, and for all his skill, he and Ladybug aren't quite in sync yet.

Marinette smiles at him. "I can't leave Paris -"

"Of course you can. The city isn't holding you prisoner, and you have an entire team of heroes at your back. Besides, by then you might have defeated Hawkmoth, and you're free, aren't you?"

"I can't see him being defeated any time soon," she mutters, also thinking to herself, privately, that once Hawkmoth is gone, her team will fall apart again. "But hey, if you're right, I guess Gotham wouldn't be the worst place to go. I'd need a break from Paris when it's all over, I think. We could celebrate," she says, then gasps. "We can have a party, invite everyone who abandoned me for Lila, and rub the victory in their faces!"

"Habibti, the manor isn't _that_ big."

Silence falls between them as she arches through the air and his eyes trace her, silhouette stark against the image of the moon. She lands, straightens and turns into an Arabian Flip. This landing she doesn't quite manage to stick, but she steadies herself well enough, and he's not going to say anything. _Can't_ when she's rendering him so breathless. She's not really doing anything that he hasn't seen done before, nothing that he hasn't done himself, but she enchants him all the same.

Then out of nowhere, after she flubs a second attempt at the Flip, he says, "You haven't got your right foot positioned properly. That's why you can't stick your landings."

She turns to him, surprised, like she's just remembered he's there. "Oh. Well then, will you show me?"

He watches her for a moment longer then stands up and saunters slowly over. "Watch me carefully," he tells her. She crosses her arms and nods, her expression one of intense concentration that brings a faint grin to his face.

Damian of course was trained for most of his life to be agile, to be precise. He pulls it off perfectly and Marinette traces his movements like a hawk. When she tries again, she is perfect too. He smiles, a warmth blossoming in his chest. _Of course_.

"Was that better?"

"You know it was," he says, catching her grin despite the shadows. "You might try repositioning your stance, however..." His hands go to her hips and he shifts her slightly. "Better."

"Oh yeah, what a difference. You're a master of your craft."

"You're sarcastic tonight." It's late, so when her stomach growls it shouldn't be a surprise. A puff of breath hits her neck as he laughs. "Hungry?"

"Just a bit," she says, thanking the shadows for concealing her blush as his hands linger on her hips, his chin on her shoulder, for far longer than necessary.

"What do you want to eat? I'll call somewhere, make a reservation. I've made myself known to most of the restaurateurs in the city." Of course he has.

"Lynx," she whispers. "It's a Wednesday night."

"Your point being?" His lips brush against her ear and send shivers down her spine. She goes, if possible, even redder.

"My - My point _being_ that we can't go to some fancy restaurant on a school night."

He huffs, unamused. "I'm going to kill Richard."

"You have to go to school, Lynx."

"There's nothing that _Caline Bustier_ can teach me that I don't already know."

"Oh, so humble!" she laughs, disentangling herself from his arms before she can't bring herself to.

Turning away from him, she rubs her black gloved hands together and takes a deep breath, eyeing the electrics box they've been using as a vault. Then she’s running for it. She jumps and arches her back, her hands push off the box top but she’s under-rotated and Damian's eyes go wide as she crashes to the roof.

"_Ladybug_." He stalks to her side and crouches as she sits up, rubbing her head, grimacing. "Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up? What's your -"

"I'm okay! Lynx, I'm alright, really. Relax."

"Why are _you_ comforting _me?"_

"_Breathe_." She gets back to her feet, bends her knees and smiles brightly. "See? All in working order." As if to prove herself further, she turns into a perfect somersault, does a back flip, then snags her yoyo around the fire escape above her head and climbs it. She dangles down, her ponytail yanked down by gravity, and announces, "I want pizza. It's pizza time."

"What?"

"I said it's pizza time. It's a joke. You know, like Tobey Maguire?" His expression remains blank. "Lynx, you're a heathen."

He scowls up at her. "Because I don't know who Tobey Maguire is?"

"Spider-Man! You've never seen it?" An idea comes to her. She begins inching her way down the wire, looming closer and closer to Damian, who is very busy shaking his head and being indignant.

"No! I had better things to do with my time than watch silly superhero films."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that." She comes to rest when her head is level with his, and observing his moody little frown from upside down is even funnier than it is normally. "But I guess, if that's the case, you've never heard of this..." She takes one hand from the wire and cups his face with it, as best she can when she's hanging upside down.

His frown turns befuddled. "What are you doing, Ladybug?"

"I'm showing you the ropes," she breathes, and closes her lips over his.

It's soft. Softer than she imagined Damian would be capable of, but after a moment he presses back against her gently, his hands moving to cradle her head, fingers meddling with the wisps of hair at the nape of her neck. He tilts her head to the side and deepens the kiss, but blood is rushing to Marinette's head and making her dizzy. (Because she's upside down, of course. Nothing else.) She pulls away, but Damian is a stubborn creature and he catches her lip with his teeth, gently enough not to hurt her but insistent enough to halt her, and her eyes slide shut.

He lingers for a while before letting her go, and when she opens her eyes again he looks like he's on another plane of existence.

"Lynx? You okay over there?"

He locks his gaze onto her. "Get down here."

"Make me." She propels herself upwards and flips through the air, twisting and turning like a professional gymnast, and then lands gracefully, a few feet away from him. "Buy me dinner, Lynx. If you can make demands, so can I."

"With pleasure."

"Pizza time." She grins as he hums low in his throat, refusing to answer. "Lets get out of here. We've practiced long enough tonight."

"There is no such thing as _enough practice_ \- But yes. We'll get a pizza," he amends when she raises her eyebrows at him.

"Hey, Damian," she whispers. He raises his eyebrows. "Vault for me again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and find me on tumblr: [the17thtearoom](https://the17thtearoom.tumblr.com/)!


	2. The Prettiest Sight To See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Damian's mind, she is unbeatable. She is unbreakable. She is forged in fire, or no. She has become fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my offering for Daminette December, day five; Fire. Title taken from Silver Bells by Dean Martin, which makes it our song of the day!

Luka stares disbelievingly at Damian, who looks painfully unrepentant. _“You set me. On FIRE.”_

Marinette covers her face with her hands. “He didn’t mean to!” she wails, her voice muffled.

“He didn’t _mean to?”_ Luka repeats incredulously. “That’s_ insane.”_

“And a damnable lie,” Damian says. “I absolutely meant to.”

The look Luka shoots him is nothing short of malevolent. “Well it’s only fair that I get to set him on fire now,” he says after a moment, crossing his arms.

_“What?”_ Damian spits, looking outraged.

"You're not setting Damian on fire!" Marinette says.

"_Oh_, I see what this is," he says, crossing his arms._ "Favouritism_. It's fine if it happens to me, but it's suddenly not okay to set people on fire when it's your boyfriend!"

Marinette pauses to consider this. "Yes," she says. Luka releases a scoff of the most offended proportions but she doesn't care; Damian is looking at her with the most melt-worthy smile, secretive and meant just for her. All of a sudden the room is too crowded.

Nathaniel, the silent predator of their group, as she has come to realise, is creeping up behind Luka with a lighter in his hand and a determined look on his face, so Marinette takes Damian's hand and pulls him towards the door before the fireworks _really_ start.

"We're going out," she calls over her shoulder. "See you kids later. And let me know about Jagged's New Year's Eve party!" As the door closes they hear the _whumf _of a denim jacket going up in flames for the second time in an hour.

"They're all morons," Damian tells her.

"Yes," she says for the second time. He clucks his tongue disapprovingly but she knows he's pushing down a grin of his own. "Come on, lets take a walk. I want to see peoples' lights; we haven’t got a tree at home yet." She threads their fingers together before he can reply, not that he would do anything but agree.

They take the civilian exit from Orange Grove and even Damian has to wince when the wind hits his face. Marinette is especially effected and she bundles herself further into her coat. He helps the warming process with his tartan scarf, also taking care to wrap it around her mouth so that she can't protest and grinning openly when her muffled complaints produce little more than puffs of icy air.

"I'm sorry, habibti, I didn't catch that." He puts a hand to his ear and she whacks him on the arm, already trying to unravel his wrappings. Damian chuckles, and they wander down the street in peace. As they pass the hideout one of the windows shatters, and Luka's lighter goes sailing out, landing with a small _flump_ in a grey snow bank. Damian stares at it and contemplates picking it up for his team mate's sake, then says fuck it, and doesn't.

The bitch had wanted to set him on fire.

Instead, he concentrates his energies on Marinette, who has been utterly dwarfed by her winter layers. She looks like a fabric burrito, shooting him a scolding look over top of the scarf. Damian grins innocently, thinking she couldn't look threatening like this if she tried; far too soft and cuddly to be frightening, but even so his thoughts drift towards the sentimental.

Marinette's strength is _in_ her softness. It's in her kindness, and in how boundlessly she loves despite the myriad of reasons she has to shut herself off forever. It's in her determined nature, the fiery soul that burns on a permanent simmer in that willful heart of hers. In Damian's mind, she is unbeatable. She is unbreakable. She is forged in fire, or no. She has _become_ fire.

Danger and passion and strength, blinding to behold and impossible to look away from.

Marinette, finally free (mostly) from his devious scarf, feels his gaze on her and turns an exasperated smile his way. "What are you thinking about now, you villain?"

Damian shakes his head. "Nothing in particular," he murmurs, helping her to rearrange his scarf around her neck in a more manageable fashion as the biting wind whips itself up into a borderline frenzy.

She smiles knowingly, because he doesn't have to_ say it_ for her to _know_. He returns the smile, ever the gentleman (which he simply is) and takes her hand. For all her coats and layers, and of course the tartan scarf, she has forgotten her gloves, which isn't surprising. He knows for a fact that she left them lying, forlorn, on her desk when he picked her up that morning. She had insisted otherwise of course, and he hadn't fought her on it. He'll concentrate on keeping her warm now, because his last remark of, “I told you so,” wasn’t so well received.

There is no winter wind that can diminish the flame that flickers within her. Damian hopes to spend the rest of their days together ensuring that nothing ever does.


	3. A Green Christmas Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Marinette. Good morning."
> 
> She watches his brothers move past her and start up the stairs before she asks, "What are you doing?"
> 
> "I got you a Christmas tree."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day six; Tree. Title taken from Blue Christmas!
> 
> As the mainline Darker Origins story is getting back on the track that we like it to be on, I don't feel so bad about posting my fluff pieces in time with the daily prompts.

Marinette watches, completely silent, as Damian's brothers navigate an enormous pine tree in through the bakery's back door.

She had heard them coming and left the comfort of her living room to investigate the commotion after she heard Tim shrieking, "Pivot! _Pivot!"_ and Jason shouting back,_ "Shut the fuck up, replacement!"_

They make it to the stairs, Damian following behind them barking a constant stream of instructions which all go ignored. He sees her standing there, watching with a blank expression on her face, and his usual frown of displeasure melts away. He smiles at her.

"Marinette. Good morning."

She watches his brothers move past her and start up the stairs before she asks, "What are you doing?"

"I got you a Christmas tree." He sure as hell has, and looking at it, she's not totally convinced that it's going to fit inside her living room.

"I can see that, bobcat. It's uh - It's lovely." Snow is dripping and slipping from the branches onto the stairs.

"It's fresh too," he says, rather needlessly, because just before it disappears around the corner, an owl takes flight from within its hundreds of green needles and Jason shrieks, _"Fuck! Shit! Bitch!"_

"There are feathers in your hair," Dick tells him. "It's a good look."

They watch the owl situate itself on one of the ceiling beams. "Thank you, Damian," she says. It glares down at them imperiously, and ruffles its feathers.

He stares up at the beast for a few seconds before he turns to her and says, "I'll have someone come and wrangle the bird."

"That would be good," she nods.

Miraculously, the tree does fit, quite nicely in fact. This is something that Damian is only too happy to take the credit for, but Jason (who still has a feather sticking from his hair) keeps pulling rude faces behind his back, which makes him hard to take seriously.

"Do you have any ornaments?" Tim asks, hands on his hips as he takes in the great green monstrosity in the window. It half blocks the TV, but Marinette doesn't really care.

Soon the sofas are piled high with boxes of decorations, and Damian and Jason have taken it upon themselves to untangle the mess of lights. They were boasting to begin with, but five minutes in they're swearing and cussing out the things.

"Stupid fucking pieces of shit," Jason mutters as Damian throws down his end and declares, "Marinette, your lights are broken."

She and Tim exchange a knowing look and continue adding hangars to the baubles. After a moment of no response, Damian huffs and starts in on his lights again, scowling.

"A shot of candy cane liqueur is what makes a cup of Christmas cocoa," Dick declares from the kitchenette, before adding perhaps half a bottle to the mug that he then takes a sip of.

"Help or fuck off, Grayson," Jason says, glaring at the twinkle lights as if they're the most offensive thing he has ever come across. "What the hell is happening? Do these things tangle _themselves?"_

Dick brings five steaming mugs over and sets them on the table, before ushering his brothers away from the lights and proceeding to untangle them, single handed, within five minutes.

The look on Damian's face is one for the ages. "What the hell? How did you do that?"

Dick rolls his eyes and picks his potent-smelling mug up, pointing between his two brothers. "The size of your egos are outmatched only by your lack of patience."

"Wrong," Jason says. "I waited _years_ before trying to kill Bruce after I died."

"What?" Marinette asks.

"Lets decorate!" Tim cries, leaping to his feet.

An hour later, the lights are strung up and the baubles sit in pride of glimmering place, all settled strategically according to Marinette and Dick's strict instructions. Jason turns off the overhead lights and Tim flicks on the tree lights, and the four of them stand back to take in the fruits of their hard work; the glowing, twinkling mass of colour. Outside the world has gone dark but inside, it has never been brighter.

"Thank you, bobcat," she whispers to Damian, and his arm slips around her waist, pulling her into his side.

"Any time, habibti."

Her parents come in at the end of the day, asking why there's an owl living in their stairwell, but they stop short at the sight of the tree (and of Dick, who has drunk himself into a candy cane liqueur-induced slumber).

"Oh, boys," her maman breathes, placing a hand to her chest. "Oh, it's _beautiful."_

"I don't even care about the owl anymore," her papa agrees as they come closer for a better look. "But it _has_ shit on our stairs, so when I'm a little less starstruck, somebody's going to get it."

"I thought you were calling someone about the owl!" Marinette hisses to Damian, who whispers back, "I forgot." She rolls her eyes but doesn't reply; there's no sense in spoiling the peace. Everyone sits back and watches the tree sparkle in silence.

Their first tree, she thinks to herself, and smiles.


	4. That's When Those Blue Memories Start Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Damian?" He hums. "Will we be happy?" Her question silences him for a moment; it's vulnerable, whispered in a moment of intimacy. From one heart to another.
> 
> "Ecstatic," he tells her. "We won't want to be anywhere else. With anyone else." Her fingers rake through his hair. "And I'll adore you as well, and you'll be worthy of every last drop. Has anyone ever told you?" She's crying silently, but her tears look to be happy ones. "Because you are... exquisite, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 10: Fluff! Weepy fluff, but fluff all the same.
> 
> (And a sort of epilogue for chapter nineteen of Darker Origins, but it can of course be read separately.)

Bruce’s voice rings in the otherwise silent living room as he drones on and on and on about correct mission protocol. Damian is meant to be listening intently, but he's exhausted and worried out of his mind, so he isn't.

He keeps glancing over his shoulder at the hallway, as if doing so will make Marinette materialise, and twisting the black ring on his finger around and around. Todd is pacing irritably behind the sofa, muttering to himself. Drake is shooting him constant concerned looks and Richard sits on the arm of his chair, his legs crossed and hands clasped patiently, but there's anxiety written into every line of his body. (Damian is sure that when the relief wears off, his eldest brother is going to cause him quite the headache, but it doesn't matter.)

Marinette should be back by now. Something must be wrong. He's damaged her, hasn't he? Alfred, during his examination of her, has found something terrible that is keeping her incapacitated, and it's all Damian's fault -

A door opens. "Master Damian," the elderly butler says, "if you wish, you may see to Miss Marinette. She is quite well."

Relief floods him so suddenly it almost takes him from his feet and he rushes from the room, his father still mid-sentence. "Damian, _get back here, damn it -"_

The door slams shut behind him, and then it's just him and Marinette; glorious, living, _breathing_ Marinette. For the first time in weeks, they're actually alone together, and in the low light of the bedroom, her stare is soft and piercing all at once.

Like a tidal wave the last weeks of their lives hits him, and he almost cries. His breath leaves him in a rush and he falls into her arms. He knows now that he is painfully in love, but he doesn't deserve to be. Not with her. Not after what he did.

"Damian."

Her voice is soft, soft like she is, far too much for him, with his jagged edges and traitorous nature -

"Damian, what are you doing?"

He's trembling, that's what he's doing. This sudden, overwhelming feeling of love is almost too much for him to cope with on top of everything else, and when he opens his mouth to reply, all that comes out is a staggered cry. His exhaling breath ghosts the nape of her neck, and he holds her.

"Damian." Her voice is a whisper, her breath puffing against the shell of his ear. "Bobcat, I don't blame you."

His knees give and he falls to them before her, face buried in her stomach and hands gripping her hips. "Anything - Anything, I swear..."

He feels her fingers thread through his hair. "Are you vowing yourself to me?" She sounds amused, damn her. After everything, she's talking to him so _amused_. "Damian, I never thought I'd see you kneel for _anyone."_

"I kneel for you, Marinette," he says. "Every time. I swear it. My life for yours."

"I think that's the adrenaline talking."

"Maybe it is," he concedes. "And maybe _this_ is, but whatever you wish for, I'll make happen." He'll do just about anything now; anything to repent, to cleanse himself of his sin.

She hums and he feels it all through her body. "Is that so?" She lowers herself carefully until she's sitting in his lap, and when she speaks, her voice is watery. "Would you bring me the moon?"

"I'll throw Wonder Woman's lasso around it and pull it down," he promises.

"I'm not sure she'd be happy about that," she says, her voice light.

"Oh no, Diana loves Ladybug. She's going to love _you_ even more, the whole Justice League will." Yes, he's certain of that. "You'll meet them, when we next go to Gotham. They're going to adore you. We may not get much time to be_ alone,"_ he says ruefully, "but we never have _here,_ so..."

"Try to forgive yourself," she says next, and while her voice remains gentle he can't mistake the command. "And will you do one other thing for me? Take December off with me. Just... let yourself _be."_

He's not sure he can do that. He's always got somewhere to be, something to do. A villain to bring to justice, a wrong to right, an animal adopt into his ever-growing zoo. But it's Marinette asking, and he is hers to command.

"As you wish," he murmurs, and she sinks further into his arms.

"Damian?" He hums. "Will we be happy?" Her question silences him for a moment; it's vulnerable, whispered in a moment of intimacy. From one heart to another.

_"Ecstatic,"_ he tells her. "We won't want to be anywhere else. _With_ anyone else." Her fingers rake through his hair. "And I'll adore you as well, and you'll be worthy of every last drop. Has anyone ever told you?" She's crying silently, but her tears look to be happy ones. "Because you are... _exquisite_, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

He isn't worthy, he knows, not to hold her or be held by her, in all of her magnificence, but she smiles and wipes away his tears. When did he begin to cry?

"I think you're quite exquisite too, Damian Wayne," she whispers. "And we're going to be okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts are appreciated, and kudos too :)


	5. When The Snowman Brings The Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I say we take advantage of the opportunity out here to do something. Something that's fun, but also reckless and incredibly dangerous." He meets Marinette's eyes very seriously. "You know what I mean?"
> 
> She gasps. "A snowball fight!"
> 
> "What's dangerous about snowball fights?" Damian asks, and Nathaniel looks similarly confused.
> 
> She and Luka grin at each other. "The rock that we pack into every third snowball," she says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day eleven: Snow. Named after my favourite Christmas song, by Wizzard, I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday.
> 
> We're back to the fluff. All hail the fluff!

Marinette looks out onto the park from the window, waiting. An enormous blanket of snow has covered the earth, like a slab of untouched icing sugar. There are two small sets of footprints ruining the illusion; hers and Damian's, leading all the way into the building that houses Luka's studio. She had promised him that they would listen to his Elton John cover, and he had called them on their promise, so here they were.

"If Mr Blue Sky doesn't arrive soon, I'm leaving," her boyfriend grouses from behind her, and she rolls her eyes.

"What, without me? Sure." He huffs, but she knows when she turns around that he's still going to be there. He's just sulking right now. She can feel it.

The door finally opens and Luka wades inside... on _skis,_ and looking very proud of himself.

“What the fuck?" Damian asks, frowning.

Luka has stopped in the doorway to peel his skis off, and he leans them up against the wall, where they drip and melt onto the dusky lilac paintwork. Marinette is too stunned to warn him, and he doesn't notice.

“I had to ski here," he says. "My motorbike wouldn’t move through the snow, and Nath took the tennis rackets.”

Marinette balks. “What does _that _mean?”

And then, as if on cue, Nathaniel appears with two metal rackets strapped to his feet like snowshoes, also looking very proud, only much more quietly so.

“I love snow days,"he beams, then pauses. "Do you think Chloe will be mad that I took her tennis rackets?"

"Of course not," Luka says, patting him on the back and then wincing as he turns away. Poor fox boy.

Luka lets himself into his studio and Nathaniel follows him in, flopping onto the sofa immediately. Marinette remains in the hallway, watching the snow, so Damian stays with her.

"Are you ready for the blizzard that's supposed to come?" she asks.

"Sure," Luka calls from inside the studio. "I mean, I've stocked up on beer and frozen pizzas, so I should be okay."

She frowns. "That isn't 'being ready'."

"Funny, Jules said the same thing."

She and Damian roll their eyes at each other as music floats out through the half-open door._ "You could never know what it's like, your blood like winter freezes just like ice." _Outside, snow begins to fall from the sky again in big white flakes. "_And there's a cold lonely light that shines from you. You'll wind up like the wreck you hide behind that mask you use..."_

"Huh, it's really coming down out there," she says. Damian walks up behind her to look out as well. His arms go around her waist, his chin rests atop her head. "All of Paris has come to a standstill."

"Hopefully Chloe doesn't freeze," Nathaniel calls out to them. "She refuses to wear a hat, even when it snows, because she says that they make her look stupid."

"You think she's leaving her penthouse today?" Damian asks, and she feels the low hum of his throat against her hair. "That's optimistic of you."

A sudden fizzing, popping sound comes from the studio and they turn around as Nathaniel bolts out, crashes into the wall opposite, and falls over. He's panting like he's run a marathon.

"What's going on?" Marinette cries, going closer for a look, until Luka appears with an irate look on his face, and slams the door shut behind him.

"It's fizzled!" he cries. "My mixing board, whole thing's gone kaput."

"Oh dear," she says, smiling weakly. "I mean, it _was_ old..."

"Does that mean we can leave?" Damian asks, and Luka glares at him.

"You know, I actually vouched for you at one point."

"There has to be something we can do with the day!" Marinette insists. "Look at all the snow out there. Maybe we can build a snowman."

"Oh, they'll love that," Nathaniel mutters, glancing at the two boys who are still glaring. He takes up his (read: Chloe's) tennis rackets, and they all file out into the cold mid-winter sun.

No one knows quite what to do now that the studio's gone kaput, and they stand around listlessly until Luka takes charge.

"We spend our entire lives being more responsible than we should rightly have to be," he declares, hands on his hips. "I say we take advantage of the opportunity out here to do something. Something that's fun, but also reckless and _just_ dangerous enough." He meets Marinette's eyes very seriously. "You know what I mean?"

She gasps. "A snowball fight!"

"What's dangerous about snowball fights?" Damian asks, and Nathaniel looks similarly confused.

She and Luka grin at each other. "The rock that we pack into every third snowball," she says.

"Creates a whole new layer of fear that really spices the game up," he adds. The other two stare at them like they've lost their minds.

"That's ridiculous."

_"That's inspiring."_

"Nathaniel, will you please side with me for _once?" _Damian levels a stern look at them. "We aren't going to toss about snowballs filled with rocks."

"Maybe _you_ aren't," Marinette says, and even as he huffs at her she knows he's going to play as well. He could never turn down a challenge, especially not when it gave him the opportunity to beam their team mates in the heads with rocks.

When Damian's brothers, out on an early afternoon walk, come across them an hour later, the construction of their arena has already been finished. It looks rather grand, in Marinette's opinion. The square outside Luka's studio is big enough to make this a serious match.

"Well well well," Jason drawls, "what's going on here?"

"We're having a snowball fight!" Marinette says, patting down the last part of she and Damian's northern defense wall. "And what are you guys doing today?"

“My plan is to get drunk and pass out in a snowbank,” Jason says.

“Wouldn’t be the first time that happened to you," Dick says.

“Or the last," he agrees. "If you're having a snowball fight, why are you running in and out of that building?"

"That's Luka's studio," she explains, getting to her feet and brushing the snow from her knees. "We're using the kitchen's freezer."

"That really doesn't answer his question. For what?" Tim asks, and Damian, walking past with an armful of ammunition, says, "Don't ask," before he too vanishes inside.

"Seriously, what's going on?" Dick asks, following his little brother with a lost puppy expression.

"We're freezing snowballs," Nathaniel calls, having just returned from putting away his third batch of stock.

"Isn't snow kind of _already_ frozen?" Tim asks with a smart-arse smile, and Marinette nods.

"Yes, but putting them in the freezer hardens them up even further, which makes them more dangerous to throw around."

Jason hums. "So what you're saying is that you're going to spend your day throwing chunks of ice at my brother?"

"Yes, exactly!" Luka exclaims.

He breaks into a near-demonic grin. "Sounds like a good time."

"Yeah, can we get in on this?" Tim asks as Damian returns with Dick following shortly behind.

"Sure," Luka says. "But I want you two on my team. You're fucking built." When Jason and Tim agree, Nathaniel, also on Luka's team, breathes an audible sigh of relief.

"Hey guys, guess what?" Dick asks, as Damian smirks imperiously at the Fox and Snake. "Damian's asked me if I want to play on his and Marinette's snowball team!"

She tries not to smile as Jason, smirking like a devil, says, _"Wow,_ Grayson, that's good news!"

"Guess who's playing on our team?" Luka asks, and Nathaniel nods at the two remaining Bat Bros.

Damian's cocky, self-assured grin falters, he mutters, "Shit," and Tim says, "What a _great_ day."

* * *

A short while later, Marinette, Damian and Dick sit behind their snowy defenses, while on the other side of the square, the two remaining Robins hide with Luka and Nathaniel. Both teams have a tub filled to the brim with snowballs _and_ rockballs, and all lie in wait.

"None of you heathens had better hit Marinette," Damian hollers over their main wall of defense, and Dick grabs hold of him, pulling him back to safety as Marinette sighs and says, "Getting hit is part of the game, Damian, don't be so silly."

"Who's going to be the looker?" Dick asks, and the couple chorus, _"You."_ He rolls his eyes at them but peeks over the wall anyway. "Nothing. D'you think they -"

He's cut off as a snowball whizzes across no man's land and hits him smack in the mouth. He cries out, falls backwards into the snow, and Marinette and Damian leap to action to avenge their team mate, whipping a barrage of snowballs back at the enemy. Nathaniel peeks up and gets clipped in the centre of his forehead by Marinette. Their attracted audience, consisting of Marc, Alfred and Master Fu, collectively winces.

"Son of a bitch," Dick mutters, rubbing at his red raw mouth. "That one had a rock."

"Yes, Luka really likes to do that," Marinette says, still throwing. Damian hi-fives her when she gets Tim. "It's kind of awful, actually."

Nathaniel hurls one at Damian, who barely dodges it in time, and Marc calls,_ "Nice shot, babe!"_

They go on like this for half an hour, before Marinette, crouched behind their last remaining defense wall, mutters, "The cold's starting to get to me," and Damian yells, _"Are you ready to accept your crushing defeat?"_ to the opposing team.

_"Get fucked, enemy scum!"_ Jason cries, throwing another snowball without even popping his head above their snow wall; Dick gets hit again and can only sigh.

_"I'll give in,"_ Nathaniel yells. _"I'm kind of hungry!"_

_"So eat the snow,"_ they hear Luka snap.

_"Guys, please stop fighting,"_ Tim says.

"They're beginning to bend," Damian says, his eyes glinting. "Their ranks are divided; we can take them." She smiles weakly, beginning to shiver. Damn this deep cold. Winter is coming, she thinks, and then rolls her eyes at herself as Dick comes to crouch beside them. "I say we go in for the kill."

"And then go somewhere warm and I can douse myself in hot chocolate," she adds quickly.

"Then lets do it," Dick says. "I'll see you both on the other side."

He scoops up an armful of snowballs and breaks for no man's land, as Damian presses a fierce kiss to Marinette's frozen lips.

"I'm with you, habibti," he says, holding her face in his hands. "I just want to say, if something happens to me out there, if I don't make it back -”

“Don't talk like that!" she says, and her eyes glimmer. "Until the end."

He nods. "Until the end."

They rise up from behind their last standing wall of defense and bolt after Dick, roaring a war cry. Luka and Nathaniel immediately begin pelting them but it doesn't slow them down. Snowballs and rockballs alike fill the air and war cries intermingle, turning into an indistinguishable mess of noise. Nathaniel goes down first, tripping over his tennis rackets and landing heavily on the snowy field, and Tim, who is moving too fast to respond, trips over his prone body and falls as well. Jason and Dick throw their last snowballs at the same time, and they meet their respective targets at the same time, and the two brothers knock each other out; they both had rocks in them.

It's just Marinette and Damian versus Luka then, but the Snake proves himself a fearsome foe, moving with such speed and agility that Marinette doesn't even see the snowball he aims at her until it's almost on her.

_"NO!"_ Damian roars, swerving off course to dive in front of her, and the rockball smacks into his head as he goes down, heavy into the snow, from where he doesn't move. Dick scoops up one last snowball from his spot on the ground and uses it to take down Luka, and then the field falls silent.

Everyone stares at him, and after a moment, Nathaniel cries, "Oh my god, Luka, you've killed him!"

"Nah, he has a thick skull," Tim says, peering at his brother curiously. "He'll be fine."

Marinette drops to her knees at his side and shakes him until he groans, "Did we win?"

She breathes a sigh of relief as Alfred reaches them, and says, "Yes, we did bobcat."

"We kicked their asses!" Dick cheers, joining them.

Damian, through the concussion, smiles triumphantly at her and says, "This feels like defeating the Joker _and_ the League of Assassins all over again."

"All of you be quiet," Alfred says, ever the long-suffering butler. "I'm checking Master Damian for injuries."

"I was filming the whole thing," Master Fu adds. "I saw some very impressive moves out there. You're each a credit to your respective cities."

"What am I doing on the ground?" Damian mutters as Alfred holds a pen in front of him and asks him to follow it with his eyes.

"You took a rockball to the head for Marinette," Jason says.

"It was beautiful," Dick says, sniffling like a mother at her child's wedding.

"The emotional highlight of _my_ day," Marc agrees.

Marinette leans over him where he lays, smiling a sappy little smile at him. He looks away, slightly bashful, as a red mark blossoms on his forehead. While everyone leaves the battleground behind, she leans down and kisses him.

"It was very sweet of you," she whispers against his lips, then plants another small kiss and leans away, giving him room to breathe.

"Whatever," he says, clearing his throat uncomfortably. (She sees the blush.) "What was it you said about getting somewhere warm?"

She helps him back to his feet without argument, and they follow the rest of their friends, leaving behind a thoroughly destroyed field of snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments always appreciated <3


	6. Look To The Future Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Habibti," he says, suddenly growing nervous when she turns a smile on him. "I - How are you?"
> 
> "I'm very well Damian, thank you for asking," she says patiently, turning back to the stove, where she is preparing hot chocolate. "And how is the animal you've got hidden in my hideout?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day twelve: animals. (Well, one animal, but it still counts, right?) Title from Merry Xmas Everybody, by Slade.

Damian has been planning this for a month. He spent that time narrowing down his list of suitable candidates and at the end of the line, selected a worthy specimen. He did all of this under the radar, perfectly stealthy. Their mission was, as Luka described it, the toppest of secrets. Even when held captive by his insane mother, he kept his mouth firmly shut, and now, the time is upon them.

Damian is going to give Marinette a dog, and she has no idea.

"She totally knows something's going on, by the way," Chloe says.

_"What?"_ he asks. "Already? How?"

"Nathaniel just went up to her and asked her if she knows anywhere that has bones for eating."

Cringing, he asks, "And what did she say?"

"That he's been spending too much time around Luka, but she had _that look_ on her face. The _I sense bullshit_ look."

"Shit. Okay, I'll handle this." He shoots a venomous look at the Fox wielder as he passes him to reach Marinette, in the kitchen.

"Habibti," he says, suddenly growing nervous when she turns a smile on him. "I - How are you?"

"I'm very well Damian, thank you for asking," she says patiently, turning back to the stove, where she is preparing hot chocolate. "And how is the animal you've got hidden in my hideout?"

He doesn't reply straight away. When he does, he wishes he hadn't. "What animal?"

Marinette sighs, turns the stove off, and faces him with her arms crossed. "I'm not stupid, Damian. Nathaniel talking to me about bones, and how I think I'd feel if something dug up my window boxes clued me in." She looks pointedly over at Nathaniel, who blanks them entirely.

"I'll kill you, fox boy," Damian says. He had been _paying him_ to keep quiet.

"You thieving little bastard," Luka says. As it turns out, so had everyone else in their group.

"Okay, so does Marinette know yet?" Chloe calls from the next room. "Kagami's struggling to fit a bow on the puppy. It won't stand still."

Marinette gasps. "It's a _puppy?"_

Irritated, Damian calls back, "She knows _now_, Bourgeois." Then to Marinette, "Yes, it's a puppy. I just - I thought it might help you, after..."

"Aw, bobcat, that is so sweet!" She hugs him tight, and he starts glaring when he notices that Luka is smirking at him from over her shoulder.

"Bobcat?"

He points at him threateningly. "You did _not_ hear that, David Cassidy."

"Maybe not, but _I_ did," Chloe says, wearing an identical smirk as she leans up against the door frame.

Marinette stands back, eyes gleaming like a kid on Christmas morning, and asks, "Can I see it?" so he leads her to the bedroom where Kagami is trying and failing to tie a big gold bow around the neck of an Alsatian puppy.

"Oh my god, it's so _cute!"_ Marinette cries.

The puppy wiggles free from Kagami at last, and she immediately gives up as the little fellow trots over to Marinette, who picks it up in a cuddle.

"What's your name?" she coos.

Kagami, getting to her feet, smiles. "That's for you to decide, but he is a he, if you were wondering." She looks behind she and Damian, to the doorway when their three team mates have crowded in to watch. "We'll leave you alone."

When she closes the door behind her, Marinette looks up at him and says, "Damian, I love him. Thank you."

"Yes, well, I thought... you know, therapy animals. He needs a loving home; his parents are both dead."

"You Waynes and your orphans," she mutters. “Even the dogs aren’t safe.”

"Plus, he's an Alsatian!" he continues, ignoring her comment. "They're a fierce breed. Not like those _rats_ Bourgeois tried to talk me into."

She smiles knowingly. "You spent a day window shopping with Chloe for me?"

"Yes I did. It was horrible. Do you feel sorry for me?"

"Terribly," she says, fawning over the puppy rather than him. This might have been a mistake. "What am I going to call _you_ then?"

"Homewrecker?" Damian breathes, and she shoots him a sharp glare, cuddling the puppy closer.

"Do you have any _serious_ suggestions?"

He looks into the puppy's big, brown eyes and suggests, "Lila?"

She snorts. "I get what you're going for, but my baby deserves a better name than _that."_

"Well, he can be quite the moody little individual, so -" 

"Damian?" 

"Yes?" It takes him a second to realise that wasn't a question. "You are _not_ naming him after me."

"How about -"

"Jason Junior."

_"No."_

"Let's just call him Dog and be done with it."

Her phone beeps; she checks it. "Luka says we should call him Jeff."

_"Fuck. Off!"_ Damian shouts at the door as she puts him down to watch him pad about the room, sniffing things. He is so startled by Damian's shout that he sneezes and falls over, then scrabbles back to his paws and continues his exploration.

He sighs, looking down on the little guy whose tail is wagging so hard that his tiny body struggles to stay on course as he walks. "I got him with the idea of him being someone to help you out when you need it."

"Emotional support pupper," she nods. "I get it."

"But he seems to be a bit of an idiot."

"If you're about to suggest Alya -"

"What about Grayson?" When she just stares at him, he adds, "The human Grayson would take it as a compliment."

Lips twitching, she says, "I like it," and so Grayson the Alsatian is christened. "Hey boy, _hey buddy,_ you wanna go for a walk?"

The hyperactive puppy squeals with excitement and skids on the floorboards to reach the door. Marinette chases him out, laughing all the way, and Damian allows himself a moment of self-congratulations before he hears her calling and springs up off the bed to follow.

Outside, adventure awaits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback appreciated!


	7. Once Upon A Christmas Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You can't just change one thing about a person," Marinette says. "Even a little change makes a big difference to who they are!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 15: If Only.
> 
> Title from a song of the same name by Geraldine McQueen, star of "Britain's Got the Pop Factor and Possibly a New Celebrity Jesus Christ Soapstar Superstar Strictly on Ice".

When Chloe suggests (read: demands) the team go out for dinner to celebrate life, the universe, and Chloe Bourgeois, she fails to mention at the time that the prices for the restaurant she's taking them to are astronomically high.

"Chloe," Marinette sighs, cradling her head in her hands as Nathaniel tries not to pass out and Kagami tries to keep him breathing. "Don't you think you could have picked somewhere less pricey?"

"I ate fucking _lobster,"_ Nathaniel hisses, his eyes almost popping out of his skull.

"Oh, what do you care, Marinette, I'm paying for everything. Nathaniel, do _not_ pass out in your dessert!"

Marinette's shoulders drop and she mutters, "Fine, have it your way," as Damian and Luka begin making their way back over from the bar; Damian is pocketing his wallet and Luka, the phone number of the blushing barmaid who's watching his ass as he leaves.

Kagami levels at Marinette a stern look. "You need to learn to tell Chloe 'no'," she says as the blonde huffs. "You're far too soft at times, sweet girl." Nathaniel is once again breathing unassisted, and so Kagami returns to her chair as the boys do.

"Met a regular to the Engine Shed," Luka says, nodding at the girl behind the bar with a wicked grin.

"How nice for you," Chloe says, rolling her eyes. "Wayne, I owe you for whatever you just bought at the bar, so it had better not be too expensive. I'm getting my hair done tomorrow."

"Does a 1700's Vintage classify as 'too much'? I'm _Bruce Wayne's_ son, I can't tell." At her icy look he smirks. "Relax, I was just having them put our leftovers into a swan."

"Oh, I love those!" Marinette exclaims, and he turns his attention onto her, his bitchy smirk vanishing. Marinette, considering what Kagami said, finally asks, "Damian, do you think I'm too soft on people?"

He sighs. "So this is what we're going to do tonight? Fight?" She scowls at him and turns away.

"Hey, Nathaniel," Chloe says, "that guy who passed just slipped you his number."

While Nathaniel goes red in the face, Marinette sings in a teasing voice, "Somebody thinks you're a cutie-pie!" and Luka continues, in the same sing-song tone, "Somebody thinks you're _me."_

* * *

Twenty minutes later they're home, at Orange Grove, with a tinfoil swan in hand. It's only Marinette and Damian now, plus Kagami, who is only stopping in to pick something up, she says.

"I'll only be a minute!" she calls from her assigned bedroom. "Then I'll be out of your hair."

"It's late," Marinette says. "Just stay the night."

"Or go home," Damian says, far too quickly. At her dangerous look he sighs and says, "Or stay."

"No, I need to go home. Just give me a minute."

Grayson the Alsatian lets himself out of Marinette's bedroom and skids over the hardwood floor to her, squealing. She scratches his ears as Damian cracks open the swan to feed him some of the chicken.

"Now, this is special chicken," he explains to the puppy, who is watching him (or rather, the chicken) enraptured. "It's from a very expensive restaurant, and I want to tell Bourgeois that I fed her two hundred euro food to a dog tomorrow, so eat up." Grayson does, with great gusto.

"Damian," she says, scolding, but he just grins at her and she can't resist returning it.

"What do you think we would have to change about Bourgeois to ensure that she's _still_ Bougeois, but a less irritating incarnation?"

"You can't just change one thing about a person," she says. "Even a _little_ change makes a big difference to who they are! If Chloe was _nice_ she wouldn't be Chloe."

"But can you imagine?" He puts their tinfoil swan on the kitchen top. "If only Nathaniel weren't so shy, or if Kagami weren't so straight-laced -" 

"If Kagami wasn't so straight-laced," Kagami says, walking to the door with a bag in hand, "you would all be dead. Goodnight."

As the door shuts behind the Dragon and the myriad of locks behind turning into place, Marinette gives a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Or if only I were _less soft,_ right?" At his contrite look she shakes her head. "I'm going to bed, Mr Tough Guy," she declares, shuffling off to her bedroom with Grayson hot on her heels, tail wagging like a helicopter blade. "Dealing with Chloe all night wore me out. Hey," she adds as an afterthought, "what if _you_ were the softie? Think about_ that."_

It doesn't take long for Damian to join her, when he gets bored on his own, and he sinks quickly into a deep sleep.

* * *

_"Marinette, an akuma's attacking Francois-Dupont!"_

He tries desperately to rouse her but barely draws a reaction. "Damian, please, I'm trying to sleep," she mutters.

"But we have to fight Captain Paris," Damian argues. "He's taken our class _hostage!"_

She snorts. "Good for him."

"I know you don't like our classmates, but we can't leave them to Hawkmoth's mercy."

"And we won't," she yawns. "Just as soon as I finish this nap..."

Eventually he manages to spirit her into action and she transforms with a heavily put-upon sigh. Captain Paris is dealt with fairly easily and once they have sent him packing, their unwitting classmates surround them with thanks and acclaim, that Ladybug has absolutely no time for.

"Whatever," she announces when Max declares to her his love.

They are about to leave when Lila Rossi pushes her way to the front of the crowd, beaming at the heroes. She fails to note that her classmates are all scowling and backing off at the sight of her.

"What?" Ladybug asks rudely.

"I just - Thank you both, for saving us! I tried to keep everyone calm when Captain Paris attacked, but I guess they didn't listen!" She lets loose a hysterical giggle, which is when Damian notices that her hair is wild, like it's been trampled on. "Kind of almost got trampled," she adds, to back his theory up. "I guess they misunderstood what I was saying - Not that I care! It happens all the - all the time. So anyway, thank you."

"God, Lila, nobody cares that you almost got trampled," Rose says, rolling her eyes. The girl finally loses it, and runs past the heroes for the door, sobbing.

“Hey, we were talking to her!” Ladybug exclaims. Everyone begins cursing her anew, for upsetting Ladybug.

"I can't believe Lila ran away!" Alya says. "Usually she ruins things by _staying."_

As everyone laughs and agrees with her, Ladybug says, "Whatever," again, very uncaringly, and the heroes leave.

Poor, misunderstood Lila Rossi goes running from the school and, blinded by her own tears, fails to spot the cyclist until he hits her, and she dies.

Unlucky.

* * *

Team Miraculous are almost all in the training room. Nathaniel's fucked off somewhere, and no one is brave enough to fetch him. Marinette can't really be bothered. The scenario has quickly devolved into an afternoon of lazing about. Paris had better hope Hawkmoth doesn't decide to attack again, because right now he would probably win.

Chloe stands with Marinette and Kagami, who chat away the time happily, while Damian tries to rouse some life into Luka, who mopes alone in the corner.

Chloe's chin is tucked low, her eyes on the ground. "Nathaniel said that I'm not sophisticated enough to be his partner."

Marinette punches the wall. "You want me to go do _that_ to him?"

"That's okay," she says with a bashful smile. "He isn't wrong; I always get so _anxious_ and withdrawn when akumas attack. Not like_ him."_

"Hey, I've got your back," Kagami says with a smirk and a self-assured wink. "Eyeliner, a shot of vodka and a push-up bra do miracles for the self-esteem. I'll make you so confident he shits himself."

Marinette tries not to scoff; Tsurugi's been getting bolder and cockier ever since she punched the Hound's lights out and dropped her off the Eiffel Tower last month (the new supervillain didn't last long on the streets of Paris), but it doesn't matter. _Everyone_ knows Kagami doesn't care about keeping promises. She'll say _anything_ to get a reaction.

Chloe wanders away from the girls and approaches Luka, sat on his own. "Why aren't you training?"

He looks around at her. "Who'd want to practice with me? Not Kagami, that's for sure. She was at a fencing champion's party last night; she's still hungover." He lowers his voice. "Can you _believe_ it? Drinking on the job!"

"I - I'll do it!" Chloe exclaims, buzzing with sudden excitement. "I'd really like to practice with you!"

"Really?" His eyes go wide, like an owl's. "But I don't think Nathaniel would be very happy about that. He doesn't like outsiders training with him or you, in case we steal his training techniques."

"Oh, he won't notice," she says sadly. "He never notices _me."_

From outside, they hear Nathaniel exclaim, "I just rescued some guy's cat from a tree, and he was so grateful that we had sex in his garage!"

Damian approaches Marinette to try and coax her into practice, but she isn't in the co-operating mood.

"I can't believe you made me come to this dumb training session," she grouses. "I get on just fine without, why the wasted effort?" She turns to leave, changes her mind, turns back. "And another thing! Your dad's a billionaire! Dress like it for once."

He looks down at his two-for-one joggers and gives a bashful nod. "I _have_ been told that I don't take enough pride in my heritage."

_"What?_ Who said that? I'll punch them!"

He sighs. "Habibti, you can't just go around punching people because they say things that you don't like -"

_"And another thing!" _She's pointing a finger in his face aggressively. "Stop calling me habibti. What are we, _five?"_

* * *

_"No!"_

Damian bolts upright, breathing like a raging bull. Marinette, in the bed beside him, stirs from her slumber and murmurs, "Bobcat? What's wrong?"

He turns to her, and the manic look in his eyes makes her startle. "Marinette, what would you do if I told you there was an akuma loose on Francois-Dupont right now?"

She grunts and shifts onto her back, pressing the heels of her hands over her eyes. "I'd go fight it, I guess..."

"You _guess?"_

She opens are eyes again. "Why are you _shrieking?_ Damian, what's going on?" At the side of the bed, Grayson is cocking his head to the side, confused. Damian doesn't answer right away. The visions are still sticking in his brain. Oh, the _horror_.

"I had an awful nightmare," he finally admits.

Marinette pouts. "Oh, poor baby." She grabs onto his arm and pulls him back down, keeping a tight grip as she snuggles up against him to get more comfy. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Habibti, you know that I love you how you are, don't you? I don't think you need to be less soft."

She yawns again. "Yeah, of course. But Kagami was right; sometimes I _do_ let people push me around."

"That's their fault, not yours," he mutters into her neck, and she giggles. "Hey, habibti. Can you imagine if Chloe _was _nice?"

She huffs a laugh as they curl up beneath the quilt together, and says, "Yeah, if only."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I didn't take this prompt as seriously as others in the fandom, and am now upon posting convinced that I did it wrong. Still, I like it, and I hope you did as well.


	8. I'm Riding In The Midnight Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The golden glow of the night has taken them as well, and if this is where it leads, Marinette will gladly follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daminette December day 19; Mistletoe. Title from Walking In The Air (Aled Jones).

Outside, the snow is piling up, but the bakery is warm.

Closing down for the night is a solitary task, and one she takes great joy in. Marinette has shut off most of the lights, bar a handful of low beams so that she can see what she's doing. They cast onto the tinsel and the sparkly window stickers she spent her morning putting up. Along with the twinkle lights that line the glass display cases, her maman's favourites, they make the bakery look like something from the classic Christmas paintings her papa loves so much.

Picturesque, gentle, even romantic. The world has a soft, golden glow, which has nothing to do with the ovens behind her, cooling by the second.

She's getting ready to put away the last of the unsold pastries when a sudden _bang_ sounds from the front of the shop and she shoots up, eyes going wide. There's someone out there. She can hear them groaning.

"I'm sorry, we're closed!" she calls, rushing to the door for a better look._ If it's the League -_

"It's just me, Marinette." _Damian_. The tension drains from her shoulders and she unlocks the door to allow him entrance.

"What was that crashing I heard?" she asks, fussing about him and scanning him over for injuries. The tips of his ears go red and he purses his lips. Oh. So it's something embarrassing then. "Did you... run face first into the door?" There's an imprint on the glass, she can see.

He clears his throat; all bluster. He mumbles a reply that she doesn't catch, so she asks him to repeat himself. "There was black ice," he says loudly, and before she can stop herself a burst of giggles escape her and his sheepish glare deepens.

_"Oh_ \- Oh, Damian." She's quick to brush the remaining snowflakes from his hair and shoulders, pressing a kiss to his icy cheek before she ushers him further into the bakery. "Have a pastry," she calls as she re-does all the locks on the door. "There are a few leftovers. Um, beignets, croguignoles, eclairs..." She straightens up, brushing off her hands and turning to face him. "Take whatever -"

Her back hits the door and he kisses her, slow and sweet and warm. The golden glow of the night has taken them as well, and if this is where it leads, Marinette will gladly follow.

"What was that for?" she asks when he pulls back. She's smiling up at him, soft and pliable in his arms, and a small smirk curves his lips. He reaches into his overcoat pocket and withdraws - A sprig of mistletoe. "Damian, that doesn't count! It has to be _hung over our heads_ to work."

"I'd argue that it worked pretty well from my pocket."

"Where did you even get it?" she asks, watching him attach it to the door frame with a piece of blutack.

"Richard has his uses," he tells her. "I accepted on the pretense that mistletoe began as a war-related tradition, and that I had no intention of 'cosying up to you' in your bedroom." She rolls her eyes, smiling, when he begins to look just a bit too pleased with himself. "I'm cosying up to you down here instead."

"Not for long if you don't keep your voice down!" she says. "You know that my parents are upstairs, don't you?"

"We'll have to lower the volume then," he murmurs, lowering his lips back to hers again. Indeed, his little ploy works; neither of them speak again for a good hour, and she's okay with that. Outside, the snow still piles up.

* * *

In the morning, when Sabine Cheng, still bleary-eyed from sleep, goes to begin setting up shop, she frowns, confused, at the sprig of mistletoe stuck to the top of the door.

The confusion only lasts a few seconds before she's rolling her eyes and calling, "Tom," to her husband, who is firing up the ovens, "dear, can you watch the shop for a minute? I need to check on Marinette. I think something got into the house last night."

When she gets up there, she finds the couple wrapped up together, as she knew she would. Marinette's back presses to Damian's chest and both of them are deep asleep, lost to the world. One of his arms drapes protectively over her waist, held in place by one of Marinette's, and their fingers are laced together. The scene is so innocent, so intimate, that Sabine almost feels wrong for intruding on it.

Her little girl has only been home for a couple of weeks, and Sabine knows she is still recovering from her ordeal. There's a part of her that would like to call for Tom to get his baseball bat, just to see how they would react, but she doesn't.

A soft smile curves her lips and she lowers the door to the loft bedroom carefully, thinking to herself that they're like two turtle doves, swaddled up and cosy and, if they're all very lucky, entwined forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback appreciated!


	9. You're A Mean One, Mr Grinch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Happy birthday, Damian!"
> 
> "You're a man now," Tim adds. "Almost fully grown."
> 
> "Yep. 21st December," Jason concludes, raising a toast. "Maybe that's prophetic shit right there. You were almost Jesus."
> 
> Damian heaves the most long-suffering sigh Marinette has ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 21: Damian's birthday. Thurl Ravencroft's rendition of the song, of the same name, is our title today. Please ignore the fact that they are singing English songs rather than French ones. Just go with it.

Damian turns the big 1-8 four days before Christmas, and his brothers insist on taking him out in Paris. ("You'll have to wait another three years for the Vegas Experience," Jason had said with a wink.) Marinette is invited as a given and then so are the rest of Team Miraculous. He isn't the most happy about them dragging him out, but he accepts it.

Until he sees where they're taking him.

He stops dead on the pavement. "No."

"Yes," Jason says, walking ahead with Tim and going inside.

"No," he says again, more insistent this time. He directs his mercy plea at Marinette and Dick, who turn dual hopeful smiles on him in return. "I am _not_ going to a karaoke bar."

"Oh, come on Baby Bird -"

"No."

"Bobcat, if you could just see that -"

"No."

"- Dick worked really hard on organising this -"

_"No."_

"- and he's been really excited about it -"

_"No."_

"- and I am too, and I think it'll be a really fun -"

_"No."_

"- way of celebrating your eighteenth -"

_"No."_

"- birthday -"

_"No!"_

_"Fine!"_ She hesitates, then pouts and says, "Please."

He stares at her for a few seconds, his expression blank, before he purses his lips. "Fine."

"Yay!"

She claps excitedly and kisses him on the lips, then takes him by the hand and pulls him inside, a smirking Dick at his back to stop him from escaping. Everyone else has already taken a seat around a table close to the bar, and someone has taken the liberty to brings drinks over for the three late-comers too.

"That was me," Luka said, shooting Marinette a reassuring wink. She has to admit, it makes her feel better.

Damian is scowling around the place, giving revelers disdainful looks full of judgement. Marinette draws his attention back to their table with a kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Damian!"

"You're a man now," Tim adds. "Almost fully grown."

"Yep. 21st December," Jason concludes, raising a toast. "Maybe that's prophetic shit right there. You were _almost Jesus."_

Damian heaves the most long-suffering sigh Marinette has ever heard.

There's a couple up on stage at the moment duetting a Britney Spears song but Luka is goading Nathaniel into joining him for a song and by the time the couple have been booed off stage, he's succeeded. The Snake and the Fox bolt from their seats and vanish from sight.

"There you go," she says, nudging Damian in the side. "The boys are going to embarrass themselves! Aren't you excited for that?"

"I guess I might be," he concedes.

She leans in close to him and he does the same, until their foreheads are almost touching. "You guess? You mean you still aren't having a good time?"

"This is - sufficient," he says, sniffing. Up on stage, Luka and Nathaniel are very busy embarrassing themselves. "Made bearable by your being here, of course."

"I told Dick you wouldn't want to go to a karaoke bar," she confesses. "But his heart was set on it and I have to admit, I kind of want to see you sing."

He scoffs. "Good luck making that happen."

_"Someone to face the day with, make it through all of the rest with -"_

"I'm glad you came to Paris," she whispers.

_"- Even at my worst, I'm best with you!"_

"So am I," he whispers back.

"Hey, love birds, do you mind?" Jason says, cutting through the quiet stillness of their little corner. "Some of us are trying to eat." They sigh and move apart slightly.

_"It's like you're always stuck in second gear -"_

At some point Chloe and Kagami have vacated their seats too, and Marinette spots them waiting in line for the mics.

"Are they_ singing?"_

"Ahem." Damian nods to their empty seats; at the table where they had been sat are a small cluster of empty glasses with paper umbrellas hanging forlorn in the rims.

"Oh, I see." And when the boys stumble off stage, the girls head on. "Wow, they're really going to do it. Is someone filming?"

"Yup," Tim says, nodding to the phone he has propped up with another empty glass. "I see all."

It's the turn of the Bee and the Dragon to look stupid, but with Chloe's bottomless well of self-confidence and Kagami's intimidating presence, almost serial killer-esque now she has a few drinks in her system, no one dares to laugh at them. In fact, a lot of the guys in the audience look rather scared.

Nathaniel and Luka retake their seats, brimming with the kind of pride that only drunk idiots can display.

Damian shoots them a nasty look. "I'm glad to see _you're_ having a good time."

"Hey, what are you complaining about?" Nathaniel asks. "We bought you a pinata for your birthday!"

"Yeah, which he used as an excuse to beat me with a stick," Luka scowls.

"You told me to hit the jackass," Damian says.

"And we're up!" Dick says, leaping to his feet as Chloe grabs hold of Kagami's hand and yanks her into a bow. Before they leave the stage, Chloe blows a kiss into the crowd, winking, and Kagami rolls her eyes. Jason and Dick begin making their way to the front.

"What are you morons performing?" Damian asks scornfully.

Tim gives him a placid smile. "Oh, I think you'll recognise it."

* * *

_"You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel, Mr Gri-inch!"_

Marinette is trying with all her might not to laugh (and also failing quite miserably), while Damian looks incredibly unimpressed. "This is how they treat the man who was almost Jesus?" she wheezes, and then he turns his look on her, and she almost cries.

"Really?" he asks. "You too?"

_"I wouldn't touch you with a thirty nine and a half foot pole!"_

"Come on, Damian, you can't let them diss you like this!" Luka says in a surprising show of solidarity. "They're calling you a Grinch!"

Finally he seems to cave, just as his brothers force the next-in-line for the microphone away from the stage, and break into an impromptu chorus of another song.

_"Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg -"_

"Alright, I'm going to make a birthday wish." He holds up his glass and the rest of them rush to do the same. "I wish... that everyone would fuck off." He toasts himself with a sarcastic smile, and downs the last of his wine.

Marinette slams her glass to the table top. "Damn it Damian, your birthday is not just about _you._ It's about the people who love you who want you to have a nice time, _so it's about ME. Now get on that stage and sing a song, mister!"_ Damian stares at her, wide-eyed, while Chloe whoops and cheers.

_"Woo, I love drunk Marinette!"_

"Okay, fine," he says, and she turns her attention back on him. "I'll - sing something." His lip curls with disgust but Marinette's black mood vanishes immediately, and she starts clapping.

_"Yay!_ What are you going to perform?"

He wags a finger at her. "No no, if you're making me do this, I get to keep that a secret until I begin." She pouts but sits back in her seat as management storm the stage to force Dick, Jason and Tim off it.

Jason continues screaming, _"The Batmobile lost it's wheel - FUCK - and the Joker got away!"_ until he's out of sight.

When the brothers have talked their way out of being thrown out, Jason's mind is clearly still only in one place. "The Joker got away," he mutters as he takes a seat next to Luka. "Seriously, fuck that guy."

"Cheers, I'll drink to that, man," Luka says, raising his plastic cup of beer in toast. Nathaniel reaches out to snag hold of his arm, missing on account of his fourth appletini, then goes on to wave vaguely at the stage and whisper-shout, _"The girls have vanished! _D'you think Hawkmoth has 'em?"

"Anyone else going up?" Dick asks, unwinding the string of tinsel that a passing girl wrapped around his neck as he left the stage.

"Damian is," Marinette says quickly. "Aren't you?"

The smile he gives her in response is very worrying. "Oh yes, I am."

* * *

By the time the music has been playing for a minute with no vocals to go along, Marinette has figured out what he's doing.

"It's genius," Luka admits. "What a bastard."

Saxophone blares from the speakers and Damian stares at their table, unblinking, for the full duration, with the microphone gripped uselessly in his hand. At one point he raises it to his mouth and says, _"Tequila,"_ and then he goes back to standing motionless on the stage, staring at them and ignoring the crowd dancing along.

"Damn, what a Grinch," Chloe says, scowling up at him.

"We ought to kick his ass," Kagami agrees, though she is swaying dangerously in her seat.

Nathaniel mutters, "Kick 'im," tries to wave down a passing waitress and topples from his seat with a loud thud.

The saxophone crescendos again and Damian raises the mic to his mouth. _"Tequila."_ The crowd shouts it along with him the second time but he doesn't so much as glance at them. He just stares at their table like he's waiting for it to set on fire.

"I think Demon Brat kind of got the last laugh," Jason admits with a grimace as from the floor, delayed by several seconds, Nathaniel says, "Tequila..."

"That's what _he_ thinks," Marinette says, crossing her arms as Damian speaks his last,_ "Tequila,"_ looking her directly in the eye. "He's not getting any _now."_


	10. Santa Clause Is Comin' To Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kagami drops in through the skylight and detransforms. She plants her hands on her hips and has assumed quite the power-stance.
> 
> "I'm going to go ahead and just assume that none of you have remembered to go Christmas shopping yet," she says. "Well, it's your lucky day." In one she clutches a Santa hat, which she holds out to them. "I've organised a Secret Santa for the six of us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 24: Presents! The Jackson 5's version of the classic song is our SOTD.

Marinette is sat beside Damian on the sofa in the hideout, surveying her Christmas present budget with a small frown. Damian has no budget; it doesn't take much convincing for him to spend money on things.

She turns to him suddenly and says, "Try not to go too crazy with your gifts," as if reading his mind.

He curses himself and says, "I'm purchasing Couffaine a bottle of hair stripper and an AA membership."

The Snake, plucking at his guitar strings, glances up with a venomous glare, but before he can snipe back, Kagami drops in through the skylight and detransforms. She plants her hands on her hips and has assumed quite the power-stance.

"I'm going to go ahead and just assume that none of you have remembered to go Christmas shopping yet," she says. "Well, it's your lucky day." In one she clutches a Santa hat, which she holds out to them. "I've organised a Secret Santa for the six of us."

Damian frowns. "Why would St. Nicholas bother with secrecy? The whole world knows about him and his inappropriate ways."

"Inappropriate ways?" Luka repeats flatly.

"No, Damian, a Secret Santa is where everyone takes a name at random and they buy a present for whoever they get," Marinette says, stifling a grin.

"Yeah, every cheap-o's wet dream," Chloe says disdainfully.

"Shut up Bourgeois," Luka says.

"Alright, I'll partake as well," Damian agrees. "But if I pull _his_ name I'm trading for someone else's."

"Likewise," he sneers.

"There will be _no trading,"_ Kagami says, crossing her arms.

"What if I get Chloe?" Nathaniel asks. "I don't want her to claw my eyes out for buying a cheap gift."

The blonde scoffs and flicks her hair over her shoulder. "I would _not_ claw your eyes out, Nathaniel!"

"And Marinette?" Luka adds. "She's already told us that she's making her present, so whoever buys for her is gonna look bad in comparison."

"That's not true!"

_"Don't accuse Marinette of trying to make people look bad, Couffaine!"_

_"Silence!"_ Kagami thrusts the hat out aggressively and snaps, "Each of you, take a _damned_ name from the _damned_ hat and _buy your damned presents!"_ When they fall silent, she adds, "And no cheating."

As Chloe flounces up to the Dragon and sticks her hand into the hat, Luka says, "I am shocked and appalled that you would even suggest that, my Targaryen Queen." She shoots him an icy look and doesn't reply.

Everyone else goes up and takes their name, then Kagami reaches in and plucks the last name out herself.

"Uh... Are you sure we can't trade, Kagami?" Nathaniel asks. "I pulled myself."

"Don't be so vulgar, fox boy," Damian says.

"Did I fucking stutter, Nathaniel?" she asks. "Now, for the love of the Miraculous, all of you, get your shopping done." She pockets her slip of paper and heads out via the skylight.

They stand in silence for a few seconds before Chloe asks, "Okay, who wants Marinette?"

Damian's arm snaps out. "Hand it over. I pulled Couffaine."

"Don't be so vulgar, Your Eminence," Nathaniel says, and Damian shoots him a nasty glare as Marinette and Luka trade names.

* * *

Chloe jabbers on to Sabrina in a non-stop stream of consciousness, but Luka doesn't care as long as she doesn't interrupt him now. He's stood at the check out, with two jumpers in his hands; a red one and a blue one, and he's trying to pick between them.

"Oh, is that for Kagami?" Chloe asks, still on the phone in one ear but listening in on Luka from the other. She looks at the saleswoman and says, "The red one."

He doesn't bother to hide his exasperation when the woman behind the check out smiles nervously, but still nods. "That's fine." He pays for the jumper and at the same time, reaches over to pluck Chloe's phone from her hand, hanging up the call and slipping it into his pocket. He smiles at the saleswoman. "Merry Christmas." At this side, Chloe pouts and smacks him in the arm.

The sound of silence is a sweet thing, he thinks, taking the bag and walking from the shop, the blonde hot on his heels.

* * *

Marinette doesn't _need_ to go shopping for her gift (which is already finished, she's quite please to say), but Nathaniel needs to buy for Chloe and the task is harrowing one, so she offers to go with him when he ventures into one of Paris' many shopping centres. It's all done up in gold and silver spirals, with reindeer made of light in the halls and baubles dangle from the ceiling.

"Don't worry," she assures him, when she sees him eyeing up one of the giant reindeer like he's considering stealing it. Which, as the Fox, he probably could. "I know just what you should get her."

_"What?"_

"Something that looks more expensive than it really is," she says. "Something shiny; she's like a magpie. And I know just the place."

* * *

They've been in this shop for an hour and a half, and Damian is beginning to go out of his mind. He has watched Kagami buy her gift and laughed at her alterations, but now it's his turn to find something. Grasping at straws, he holds up a cashmere scarf.

"No," Kagami says immediately. "Look at the price tag; it's far too expensive."

"Money is no object to me," he says.

"But it would be to Marinette," she points out. "You can't go over the top with her, she's not the 'grand gesture' type. It has to be something personal."

He huffs. "Relationships are stressful."

"Watching you freak out right now, I'm beginning to agree."

"No, I don't mean - _Marinette_ isn't stressful, it's all the unspoken rules. Why _shouldn't_ I buy her a diamond ring?"

She juts out her lower lip, thinking. "Because you're not crazy, and neither is she?"

"Don't mock me, Tsurugi." He crosses his arms and furrows his brow. (But he's not sulking, no, don't even suggest it.) "I... _might_ have an idea for a gift. But we can't get it in a department store."

* * *

On Christmas Eve the six friends gather together to exchange their presents. Grayson stretches out across Marinette's feet and growls at Damian whenever he moves. Christmas music plays in the background as they get their gifts ready to swap around.

"Who gets the person they love a partridge in a pear tree?" Marinette asks, frowning to herself.

"It's like the ultimate Quirky Girl gift," Chloe agrees. "It's crap. Have you all seen what Nathaniel gave me?" She holds out the silver chain with pride. A _C _charm done in glimmering sapphires twinkles at them. Nathaniel, busy going through his brand new set of expensive pencils, blushes, pleased, but doesn't look up.

"Who wants to guess what the C stands for?" Damian asks with a sly smirk. Marinette whacks him on the arm.

"What did you buy for Marinette then?" Chloe asks waspishly. "A whole diamond? A private jet? Lila's head on a silver platter?"

"How do _you_ know whose name Damian got?" Kagami asks, narrowing her eyes.

"I don't know what I got yet," Marinette says, turning a hopeful smile around the group. Her own present, a small, squishy package done in silver candy cane wrapping, looks too nice to open. Everyone keeps eyeing it nervously, intimidated by its perfection.

"Hey, which one of you bitches had me?" Luka asks, frowning at the box of guitar picks in his hands; whoever bought it scrawled 'Luka sucks' over top with magic marker. Kagami's lips quirk upwards.

"Marinette." Damian clears his throat, and plasters on a confident smile when she looks at him. He fingers the present at his side, wrapped in shiny green paper, and works up the nerve to pass it to her. "I have your name."

"What a coincidence," she says wryly. "I have _your_ name." And she gives him the candy cane present. He doesn't want to open it. It really is intimidatingly perfect.

"Thank you."

"Open them, for goodness sake," Kagami says. "I think the suspense is killing Nathaniel."

He eases up the cellotape, careful not to tear the paper, and slides a green jumper onto his lap. In gold thread, the brand name _Marinette_ glints up at him.

"You gave him a top to wear that has _your name_ on it?" Chloe asks, impressed. _"That's_ what I call a girlfriend flex."

"It's perfect," he declares, holding it up to the light with a smile. "Thank you, Marinette."

"You're welcome," she beams. "It really didn't take any time at all."

"So what does Damian have to live up to?" Luka asks.

As she opens his present to her, he says, "I think you'll find that I managed sufficiently, Couffaine."

He nods. _"Sufficient_ is just what I'd want in a Christmas present."

"Oh, Damian." Marinette is staring down into the opened gift, a quietly awed look on her face. "Damian, are these what I think they are?" He nods, smiling.

Nestled inside the paper, and inside several sheets of red tissue paper, are three keys. One, the key to his Paris apartment. Two, the key to Wayne Manor. And three...

She looks around at him, taking the third and smallest in her hand. It dangles from a necklace, and she rubs her thumb over it's surface. Her eyes glisten as she whispers, "The key to your heart?"

He only smiles. "Merry Christmas, habibti."

"Merry Christmas, bobcat."


	11. We'll Have To Muddle Through Somehow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette in the winter has peppermint breath and perpetually rosy cheeks, with snow dusting her inky hair and crystallising on her lashes. Damian is still painfully in love with her, and he's beginning to think that he deserves to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day twenty five: Christmas. The song of the day is Frank Sinatra's Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. (My favourite version of the song and perfectly in-fitting with the tone of the shot.)

Chloe Bourgeois turns up on Marinette's doorstep at nearly midnight on Christmas Eve. Her eyes are red and she's shivering, thanks to her Miraculous.

"Maman's not coming home after all," she says, looking off to the side rather than at Marinette. "Dad - I don't know where he is. At some business friend's house, probably, and Jean's spending Christmas with his family in Bordeaux -"

"Do you want to come in?" Marinette offers, standing aside. She already knows the answer, but she offers the question anyway, because Chloe's pride needs it in the moment.

The blonde manages a smile, finally meets her eyes. "Thanks, Marinette."

Sabine and Tom are surprised to see her, as they always are; this new found friendship between the girls has taken them months to wrap their heads around, but they overheard Chloe's explanation and welcome her with open arms. By the time her parents declare that they're going to bed ("Before Santa comes!" her papa says with a wink) she has been plied with hot cocoa and mince pies and made to feel thoroughly welcome.

"Merry Christmas, girls," her maman says with a warm smile as she switches off the last of the ambient lights; all that remains are the glow of the TV and the shimmer of the tree.

"Merry Christmas, maman." "Merry Christmas, Sabine."

When they're alone, cuddled up together beneath a snowman patterned blanket for extra warmth, Marinette turns her head to watch the lights dance and flicker against the baubles.

“What are your New Years Resolutions?” she asks.

Chloe languishes against Marinette - which is basically just laying there, only with lots of style - and is flicking through TV channels before giving up and heading to Netflix.

She glances up at Marinette from the top of her head. “To drink less alcohol, be less angry, and kick Lila Rossi’s ass,” she says, returning her attention to the TV.

Marinette grins. “You won’t last a week with the first two. Definitely not if you see Lila.”

“Well if I _do_ see her I get to cross the third thing off my list, and I don’t really care all that much about the other two things.” She snuggles into Marinette and closes her eyes as the film she has chosen, The Snowman, begins playing.

Chloe has fallen into a peaceful slumber by the time someone knocks on her front door, and the handle twists open. It's Damian, already making good use of the key she gave him in return for his.

She smiles and mouths, _"Hey."_

He looks at the TV, where the boy and his snowman are preparing to fly, and creeps closer. They speak in low tones so they don't wake Chloe, still asleep with her head pillowed on Marinette's stomach.

"Come and look at the snow with me," he says.

She frowns. "What?"

"The snow is - It's very pretty. Come outside with me and look at it."

"Damian, we've seen almost nothing but snow all December long. Besides, I'm kind of wrapped up right now. There's a Bee on my lap."

"You can't lift it up?"

"It's a heavy Bee, Damian."

"Just turn the film off, _I'll_ lift her up -"

"Are you _kidding_ me? This is the best part!" Scandalised, she points the remote at the screen, where the boy and his snowman have just taken off, and the beginning notes of the song about walking in the air start to play. "Watch it with me."

He doesn't argue, just settles in to enjoy the rest of the film, and at the end, when Marinette begins to cry and the screen fades to black, he passes her a handkerchief, turns off the TV, casting the room mostly into darkness, save for the tree, and continues encouraging her outside.

"Really, it'll be worth it. I promise."

She narrows her eyes at him, a smile playing at her lips. "Alright. You've won me over. Just let me sort out my Bee problem."

"Oh yes," he agrees. "Who could forget the huge, bitchy anchor hanging off you?"

"Are you referring to yourself or Chloe?" When he scowls at her she cheekily asks, "Do you still want me to go outside with you to look at the pretty snow?"

He huffs. _"Yes."_

She manages to lift herself out from under Chloe without waking her, and as Marinette slips a coat over her pyjamas the blonde snuggles deeper onto the sofa. She smiles softly at the sight, and allows Damian to tow her outside, into the midnight air.

* * *

Marinette in the winter has peppermint breath and perpetually rosy cheeks, with snow dusting her inky hair and crystallising on her lashes. Damian is still painfully in love with her, and he's beginning to think that he deserves to be.

The landscape is empty, quiet, more silent on Christmas Eve - or early Christmas morning - than the world is any other time of year.

"So, this is snow," she says, teasing him gently.

"I brought you out here for a reason," he says.

"Yes, I assumed..."

"Later on, we aren't going to have a moment to ourselves. Christmas Day is going to be chaotic from beginning to end and I want to do this now, or I never will."

Facing him fully, she says, "So tell me."

"The thing is with Wayne boys, as far as I can tell," he begins, then trails off as he struggles to find a way of finishing. "The thing is..."

Then the stillness ripples and breaks, as a very familiar motley crew come tramping through the snow together. Luka is at the head of the charge, Nathaniel and Marc trailing a ways behind, either tipsy or tired. Adrien and Nino complete the set, the latter bursting with excitement about something.

He sees Marinette and Damian, cries, "Adrien invited me to _Jagged Stone's_ New Year's party!"

"That's great, Nino," she says, hoping that the cold wind of the night makes them mistake her creeping blush for something else.

"I'm gonna bring _fireworks,_ dude," he tells Adrien, his eyes going wide. "Remember Bastille Day?"

"Oh god..." he says.

"Yeah, I'm gonna bring _fireworks!"_

Luka, staring between she and Damian, raises an eyebrow. "What are you two doing out here at three am on Christmas morning?"

"We could ask _you_ the same question," Damian says tersely.

"You _could,"_ he nods, "but it's nothing. We've been viewing the Christmas lights while the streets are empty. Feels like magic, right?" He throws in a wink at Marinette for good measure.

"That depends on the parts of Paris that you go to, I think," she says. "Why is Marc swaying?"

Nathaniel clears his throat and says delicately, "We have also sampled a few mulled wine stands."

"And Couffaine is still standing?" Damian asks, like the bitch he is.

"I'm the designated driver," he says, glaring. "I mean I'm not _driving,_ but..."

"Hey, if you think you can handle your bike with all five of us on it, be my guest," Adrien says, crossing his arms.

Luka turns back to his entourage of morons with a sigh. "Come on. Lets go and find a party, or make one."

They watch the flock shamble off, before Damian turns back to Marinette with a long suffering sigh in direct contrast to her amused smile.

"The thing is, with us Waynes," he continues, "is that once we fall in love, we tend to stay there, and so once I had my mind made up on you, that was pretty much it for me."

"Fall in love?" she repeats. "Are you saying that you love me?"

He clears his throat. "I thought that was implied. The thing is, I haven't wanted to say anything too soon, and I still don't. I like what we have and I don't want to ruin it by diving in too quickly. But, I think the implication is there."

"The _implication?"_ There's a joke in there that she could make about a man called Dennis Reynolds, but she holds off. "Well, I _imply_ the same feelings towards you, Damian Wayne."

The corners of his mouth quirk upwards. "Quite right too."

He doesn't know what it is. Maybe it's the smell of the air in Paris, in the middle of the night on Christmas Day, with snow dancing through the sky. Maybe it's all about the girl at his side, but whether they speak the words to each other or not, he knows, and so does she, what it is that they share. He may not be ready to use the L-word, but it's in him all the same, and it's not going anywhere.

She stands up on her tiptoes to kiss him and he wraps her in his coat, shielding her from the icy night.

The clock tower strikes three am in Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stan "The Snowman", y'all. Merry Christmas!


	12. All Is Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the blizzard outside intensifies, the sun veiled behind its own wall of snow, Marinette slips into her easiest hibernation yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 27: Hibernation. Title from Silent Night.

In the deep mid-winter, the prophesied blizzard has finally struck, and Marinette regrets everything. Curled up in her bed, a heavy blanket on top of her quilt, she plead a fever to her parents that morning, and they left her alone while they got on with their days. All the while, she curses her Ladybug, world-saving genes.

A knock sounds on the trapdoor and a second later, just as she forces her eyes open, Plagg zooms inside.

"Tikki, how're ya doing, sugar cube?" The red kwami is shivering in her bed, a special handmade affair. She's deep asleep, and that isn't set to change any time soon.

The knock comes again, so Marinette manages a tired, "Come in, Damian," and a split second later the door swings open. Her boyfriend climbs through with a level of grace that is almost offensive, and he looks so handsome that she wishes she could lift her head up off the pillow to get a better look.

Plagg has settled himself in beside Tikki, softly nuzzling her head, and Damian wastes no time in removing his coat and shoes before joining his partner in her bed. Coldness shocks through her initially, as he wraps her into a tight embrace, but he soon warms up.

She's hanging hazily onto consciousness, his breath periodically rustling the hair on the top of her head, when he hums low in his throat and asks, "Hibernation?"

"Hawkmoth had better not get any ideas," she murmurs, lips barely moving.

"I'll take care of it if he does."

"You'd better." Another puff of air hits her head when he laughs.

She wriggles further into his embrace and exhales nice and slow. He's radiating a steady wall of warmth now, and as the blizzard outside intensifies, the sun veiled behind its own wall of snow, Marinette slips into her easiest hibernation yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My shortest drabble of the month! I wanted to write a quick short and sweet thing, so I hope I succeeded.


	13. Auld Lang Syne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the overhead speakers Jagged Stone says, "Okay, here we go. Everyone, say goodbye to the Tens!" And the crowd begins chanting, "Ten - Nine..."
> 
> She looks up at her boyfriend. "Damian?"
> 
> "Yes, Marinette?"
> 
> A smile comes to her face. "Happy New Year."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daminette December, day 31; New Year's Eve. We made it, folks. No need to explain the title this time, I think.

Luka hasn’t drunk like this since before Marinette was kidnapped by the League, which, yes, only happened a month ago, but a lot happened in that month and it had felt like years to live through. But Marinette is home now, unbowed, unbent, unbroken, and life marches on.

He takes a moment to pat himself on the back for having such a deep and complex thought when he’s completely blasted, and then staggers to his feet to seek out his friends.

They’re scattered around Le Grande Paris, at a New Years party hosted by Jagged Stone (a friend of Marinette’s, oh yes of course). Chloe is in her absolute element as she swans about the place in an eye-wateringly expensive Gucci dress. (He _knows _that it’s Gucci because she told him once, twice, three times, and then made him look at the tag inside when he rolled his eyes at her.)

On his travels to - well, he can't remember _now_, but he trips over a tropical plant of some variety, spills his Black Russian everywhere and almost slam dunks his sandwich down a woman’s top. He apologises profusely, of course, but she still storms off in a rage. Nathaniel wanders up to him as he picks himself up, his boyfriend Marc trailing along.

Luka looks down at the mess on the floor, and says, “I don’t think I could be more rock and roll if I tried.”

Nathaniel frowns and says, "What?"

"I said, 'I don't think I could be more rock and roll if I tried'."

Marc is looking at him oddly, and says, "Dude, you're not speaking words. I think you're drunk."

"Why yes, I am," he says, and neither of them look any more enlightened for it. Marc is holding a glass of Chardonnay; they must both be drunk. "Hey! We should do something fun."

"What did he say?" Marc asks Nathaniel.

"That we should do something... fun. The last time he said that I got beamed in the head with a rock."

"No no no," Luka says, waving his hands about. "No more snowballs. Lets go - go and find something fun."

"I think he's trying to communicate," Nathaniel says. "'Lets find something fun'. Fine, but you're not getting any drunker, you hear me?" He takes his Black Russian away before Luka can stop him, and begins to drink it himself. He winces and asks, "Are you _insane?_ How many shots are in this?" He keeps drinking it, though.

Luka shuffles off towards the stairs, and the two boys follow nervously.

"What's going on?" They stop and turn to see Kagami, wearing a pretty dress that covers the scars the Hound left behind on her neck.

"Come on," Nathaniel says. "Your partner's going to do something stupid."

* * *

“How about we skip over the champagne this year?” Jason is suggesting to his brothers. “Bad things happen to people in our family when they drink champagne.”

Dick looks scandalised. “You can’t forgo champagne on New Year’s Eve! It'd ruin the whole night!”

“You’re right,” he says, very sarcastically. “The night was much less ruined last year when Tim drank four bottles by himself and threw up all over Damian when the ball dropped.” Tim glares at him.

Dick grins weakly. “I guess we can forget it this time...”

“You know, on second thought, lets ply you with it, Timbo,” Jason says, beginning to grin. “Lets see the little demon suck face with Marinette when he looks like the inside of a fifteen year old’s first New Year’s party toilet bowl.”

Damian and Marinette, Damian proudly wearing his exclusive _Marinette _jumper and Marinette with a tiny key on a chain around her neck, drift into their orbit at some point. Damian is holding a flute of champagne and looks suspiciously close to having a good time. This doesn't stop him from complaining.

“So what if he can dance?" he's saying to her, and they see her roll her eyes. "I can _kill people_ but you don’t see me doing that at parties, do you?”

_"Woah,"_ Tim says, holding a hand out. "Why is he saying that, Marinette?"

_"Damian."_ Dick points at him with the hand holding his martini, his expression stern. _"No killing people."_

"He's jealous because some guy with cuff links asked me to dance," she tells them. "He keeps emphasising the point about the cuff links, but I don't really get it."

"He is wearing _cuff links_, Marinette," Damian says. "That is a man who has his life together! And I saw him beforehand with another woman, twirling her about, throwing her in the air like a goddamn _pancake_. What if he had dropped her, Marinette? What if he had dropped _you?"_

"Then you would have killed him!" she shrugs.

One of the hotel staff, Chloe's personal butler Jean, approaches with the air of a polite little waiter whose patience has been tested so many times during the night that he is ready to transition over to sarcastic little waiter.

"Excuse me, sir, madame," he says, speaking to the love birds. "Would you happen to know the boys racing baggage trolleys up and down the hallways on the forth floor?"

Marinette sighs and looks skyward; Damian looks ready to commit homicide. "I'm going to go with 'yes'."

"Would you mind asking them to stop?"

They don't even say goodbye, which is rude, they just storm off towards the stairs. "Racing baggage trolleys in Paris' fanciest hotel," Jason muses. "Sounds like a good time to me."

"That's because you're an idiot," Dick says, and Jason nods, downing the last of his martini.

* * *

"I'll kill them," Damian tells her as they march up the plush velvet stairs. "First the Snake, _then_ the Fox, then you can bring them both back to life and I can do it again. With _extreme_ prejudice."

She rolls her eyes but doesn't tell him no; she wants to assess the damage before she makes her mind up. What she _does_ say is, "Killing Luka means we miss out on his usual New Year's caroling, which would be sad, I think."

“If he starts singing Memories I’m going to shove his face into that cake in the lobby.”

She shoots him a knowing look. “Damian, you’re having fun tonight. Just admit it.”

“I’ll do no such thing.”

Her stare turns sly. "We _could_ be having fun."

"I'm listening." The door behind them opens and Rose and Juleka emerge, mightily disheveled in spite of their finery. "Ah, I see what you mean. I'm in if you are."

Rose is carrying a frankly enormous bottle of champagne while Juleka fixes her hair, and she hefts it in their direction, winking when she sees them.

“Happy new year, love birds!”

"Have you seen Luka?" Marinette calls before the girls can vanish around the corner.

"Sure, he was heading upstairs with Nath, Marc and... the one - Your friend." Rose blinks heavily twice and shakes her head. "Fencing girl! Kagami."

"Oh, they haven't brought her down with them, have they?" Damian groans as they continue towards their targets.

This is the most expensive hotel in Paris. The trolleys are golden and mounted on wheels of silver. Nathaniel pushes one of them with Marc as his passenger while Luka pilots the other (on a very wonky course), no passenger to speak of because, as Kagami explains to them, she refused to partake.

"One of them is going to break something," she says plainly when Marinette and Damian join her side. "For their own sake, they'd better hope it's one of their bones and not any hotel property."

* * *

Chloe watches Marinette and Damian vanish off upstairs after Jean speaks to them, and unless he's encouraging them to hook up in her hotel for some godforsaken reason, it means someone's being an idiot and he's asked them to intervene. With a sigh, she finishes the last of her second Pink Lady and begins looking for an out from her talk with Adrien and Nino. Alya had been invited apparently, but never showed. Nino doesn't look _overly_ broken up over it.

“Nah, my dad couldn't make it," Adrien is telling her. "He slipped on some ice at the start of December, and he's been bedridden ever since." She winces into the champagne she swipes from the tray of a passing waiter. "I know, but at least it meant I got to come here tonight, and I’m _glad_ the party’s being held here! There’s a hospital two minutes away, so when Nino sets off the fireworks he bought, he’s basically already in A&E.”

“I know, man!” he exclaims, clearly very stoked by this news. “That’s why I bought twice as many!”

“Just try to take it easy,” he says. “We still have an hour left before 2020 hits. I’d kind of like you alive for it.”

“I can’t make _any _promises, my dude.”

"Lahiffe, you're a moron," she says flatly. "Do _not_ set fireworks off inside my hotel."

"Can I use your roof?"

"Can he," she mutters to Adrien, "actually in fact understand what I'm saying right now?" He shakes his head despondently.

Chloe shoots Adrien a look that says, _'keep him inline,'_ then announces, "I need to go. Jean's sneaking around looking guilty. I think something's happened."

She stalks off without awaiting a reply and vanishes up the same stairs Marinette and Damian had used. Rose and Juleka pass her, giggling to each other, and she thinks that at least somebody's getting some tonight. Dateless on New Year's Eve. It hardly bears thinking about, but she blames Hawkmoth.

"Ridiculous," she mutters to herself.

On her approach to the fourth floor she hears familiar jeering and shrieking laughter, and preps her vocal chords for a bit of shouting. Honestly, they have the nerve to call themselves superheroes.

"Hey! _Super dumbasses!_ Halt in the name of Bourgeois."

Marc's eyes widen and he dives from the trolley as Nathaniel trips over his own two feet and face plants onto the carpet. Luka startles as well, driving his trolley straight into the wall and collapsing into it, from where he doesn't move.

"Fuck's sake..." Damian mutters.

"We came as soon as we heard," Marinette tells her. "They were already going at it when we got here." The perpetrators stumble back towards them, grimacing. Expect Luka, that is, who looks immensely pleased with himself. "Come on children," she continues, clapping her hands together. "Lets go downstairs before a triple homicide happens."

"I doubt she'd kill them in here," Damian says. "Murder's a nasty stain for any five star hotel to wash out of its reputation."

"You're right," Kagami says. "She'd most likely take them outside first."

"No need to have blood scrubbed off tarmac," Marinette muses.

"Did you win your trolley race, Nath?" Chloe asks with a bitingly sarcastic smile. Nathaniel smiles weakly, and as everyone traipses downstairs, Marc suddenly clutches his shoulder, eyes gone wide. Nathaniel looks him up and down, frowning, before his eyes widen as well.

"Uh, we'll come find you in a minute. Just need to make sure that Marc's... okay."

Marinette sighs and points between them. "Alright, but if Marc throws up on anything, you know Chloe's going to make him pay for it."

"Yeah, with interest," Nathaniel mutters as the girls heads downstairs.

* * *

Damian yanks her off-course when they get to the back of the group, pulling her into one of the empty hotel room and flashing Chloe's skeleton card at her when she raises a questioning brow.

"You _pickpocketed_ her?"

"We haven't had a minute alone all night," he complains, pulling her close and kissing her. They haven't bothered to hit the lights, so the only lighting is provided by the Eiffel Tower in the distance. Otherwise, they are completely alone.

"What about the others?" she asks, pulling away.

He huffs. "I'm not inviting them to _this. _Learn to draw a line in the sand, Marinette."

"No, I mean -" She breaks off as he kisses her again. "I mean, won't they wonder where we are?"

As his hands begin to wander he says, "If they do, they know better than to ask."

Finally she assents, and pulls him down herself, kissing him voraciously before anyone goes looking for them.

"Chloe's going to kill us if we have sex in one of her hotel rooms and we haven't even _paid_ for it," she pulls away to add, without much conviction, mind you, because his fingers have found the zip of her dress.

"I know." He grins wickedly when she relieves him of his _Marinette_ jumper. "But what a way to go, huh?" She's still apprehensive, clearly. "You've seemed serious all night. Let your hair down for a minute, habibti. I won't tell."

A reluctant smile creeps onto her face at last. "I'll hold you to that, Wayne," she says, and they spend the next little while perfectly occupied. No one interrupts.

* * *

At five minutes to midnight the team all drift back together in one of the emptied out event rooms. The place has been ransacked, and Marinette caught Chloe eyeing the mess with disgust when she and Damian first arrived. From the main event hall the DJ is playing _Sign of the Times_ and a crush of guests have all gravitated in to dance along.

This is where they are when Nathaniel finally rejoins them, sans his fancy blazer and his boyfriend.

"Where's Marc?" Marinette asks as he sits down besides Chloe and swipes the champagne bottle from her, taking a swig before she snatches it back.

Nathaniel sighs. "He drank too much Chardonnay, threw up on Jagged Stone and got thrown out. He gave me his blessing to stay though."

"That was nice of him," Kagami says.

"Yes, that's what he told me as he was being dragged out by security."

Luka, miraculously sobered up by now, closes his eyes. "This song makes me want to sway."

"Well sway away from me, weirdo," Chloe says.

"It's your song, ma chérie."

"You can't give it to somebody else?"

Marinette watches them for a long moment, and then looks around at her friends. "When we _do_ defeat Hawkmoth... that won't be it for us, right? I mean, when Paris doesn't need us anymore, we aren't going to drift apart, are we?"

"Is _that_ why you've seemed so quiet tonight?" Damian asks, the arm around her shoulders tightening. "Come on, that's never going to happen to us." He looks back to the others and adds, threateningly, _"Is it?"_

"Of course not," Kagami says. "We're stuck with each other." She manages to say it in such a way that even the idea to the contrary now seems ridiculous, and Damian holds out a hand to her.

"You see?"

_"Don't worry baby, it'll be alright,"_ Luka sings, closing his eyes and swaying violently from side to side. He realises no one is joining in, and glares around at them. "Sing, you bastards."

"Of course," Damian says, "we can always unstick certain members of the team." He smiles when Marinette laughs.

When the call comes to head to the wrap around balcony to watch the fireworks begin, they haul themselves to their feet and follow the crowds outside. Somehow, they manage to end up with Damian's brothers.

"I love the fireworks," Nathaniel says. "They're so... so -"

"Explosive?" Chloe suggests.

"Yes, exactly. Explosive."

"These are good ones too, take it from me," Nino says. "I'm an expert."

"Getting yourself blown up doesn't make you Mr Fireworks," Damian says, rolling his eyes. "It makes you Mr A&E."

"How often does this happen?" Dick asks, looking Nino over with concern.

"Do you mean how often do I get scorched, or just the times with the real explosions?"

"My personal favourite was the Great A&E Visit of Bastille Day, 2018," Adrien offers.

"That was a _great_ day," he agrees.

"I like these kids," Jason announces.

"And we like you! You're like a Greek god come to life, man."

From the overhead speakers Jagged Stone says, "Okay, here we go. Everyone, say goodbye to the Tens!" And the crowd begins chanting, _"Ten - Nine..."_

She looks up at her boyfriend. "Damian?"

"Yes, Marinette?"

A smile comes to her face. "Happy New Year." He leans down and kisses her, and in her hands she cradles his jaw.

_"Five - Four..."_

"Hey, that isn't fair!" Chloe cries. "They didn't even wait!"

_"Two - ONE!"_

_"Happy New Year!"_

_Auld Lang Syne_ blasts from the stereos, mingled in with singing from the party and from down in the streets and houses and other parties too. Fireworks explode all across the city, and Marinette and Damian are still kissing.

Kagami presses a chaste kiss to Luka's lips and they smile at each other before she adds her voice to the city's chorus.

"It's _ridiculous,"_ Chloe is bemoaning. "Alone on New Year's Eve -" Luka silences her at last with a firm kiss on the lips, while Nathaniel throws up over the side of the building.

Marinette and Damian are oblivious to it all, still kissing.

"Come on, you two, it's just not fair at this point," Dick says eventually, shooting an amused look at Chloe, who is gaping at Luka.

"Can they even breathe?" the Snake asks. Finally, the couple do break apart for air, at which point he says, "Alright, it's my turn!" Marinette smiles patiently and kisses him on the cheek. "That's it? It's New Year's -"

"How would you like to be the first to get your ass kicked this decade?" Damian asks, frowning.

Jason and Tim are bellowing _Auld Lang Syne_ with Kagami, who has roped Adrien and Nino in as well. The quintet, arm in arm, boom over the speakers, _and_ the rest of the party, and Jagged Stone, on the other end of the balcony, says, _"Fucking hell, whoever's dying over there, mind doing it more quietly, mate?"_

Damian presses another, softer kiss to Marinette's lips and whispers, "Happy New Year." Their foreheads rest together as overhead the fireworks continue to dazzle and down below, the partying rages on.

(And if Dick has to wrestle Nino's fireworks away from the drunken lad before he rids himself of his own hands, it's not worth remarking upon.)


	14. Lila Rossi: A Prisoner's Lament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lila Rossi has been in prison for a week when the video arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, lil_fangirl27! This one's for you.

On Lila Rossi's first day in prison, no one quite knows what to make of her. People know she was indicted for involvement in the Hawkmoth Trials, but she doesn't seem to be anything special.

"Killed a few people, apparently," one warden tells another. "Trying to get in on the fear craze and went mad."

"Poor sod," she says, and they shake their heads at each other.

The young woman doesn't seem much, and not a killer to boot, but as she is brought into cell block B and the door is slammed shut behind her for the first time, there's something about her that's off. Unsettling. Maybe it's in the way she fumes silently, the air she gives off; of a child on the verge of an explosive tantrum, but no one can pin her down.

At first.

That is to say, until a week later, when a video message arrives and she is lead into an isolated room to view it. She's brought inside, handcuffed to the steel table which aside from the projector screen makes up the room's decor, and the door closes with a heavy _clack_.

Curious, and bored to tears, the women of cell block B wait with bated breath to see what will happen next.

* * *

There is a heat that simmers beneath Lila's skin, and it has nothing to do with the height of the summer season they're in (because it's always cold in prison). The bitches who patrol every aspect of her life now tell her a message has arrived (and that it has been screened and all sorts of other things before they have decided she is allowed to view it, because her life is no longer her own). She knows on instinct who sent it, and tries to brace herself for the barrage of sheer _smugness_ she knows is coming. (Damian Wayne is a bastard.)

No amount of preparation could have readied her for the wave of hate that floods through her as the message begins to play, though.

_"Lila Rossi!"_ Dupain-Cheng cries, and her pathetic flock echo her. At her side, Wayne is filling champagne flutes and passing them around to his suntanned compatriots. They a exude a smugness that sets her veins alight, but none are worse than _her_.

Dupain-Cheng.

_Ladybug_.

"We're just checking in before we head off to Spain." _Oh_, Lila is going to be _sick_. They're on a goddamn _boat,_ for fuck's sake.

Unbidden to her, Lila's fists begin to clench as the Fox, Kurtzberg, starts in as well, joined gleefully by the Hound's first victim, Tsurugi.

Dragon Bitch smirks into the camera, and the look cuts deeper than Lila's obsidian claws once had into her neck. "We'll have to be sure to take plenty of photos for our good friend Lila to enjoy from her cell." She clinks her glass against Kurtzberg's and then leans into Adrien's side as the boat rocks gently against the waves Lila cannot see. A whole new sort of fire joins the indignation coursing through her; jealousy.

A growl begins to rip upwards through her throat. (The wardens tasked with overseeing her exchange glances that struggle to stay neutral; this is _different_ to the sulking that has hung over her person for the last week.) That jealousy takes in a stabbing quality as Adrien himself joins in, mocking her also. (The growl is loud enough to be concerning now, and her wardens tense up.)

_"Ha!_ Enjoy prison, bitch." And Chloe Bourgeois has always been a heinous bitch herself, but never more than in this moment. _Fuck_, Lila wants to _scream_.

Correction: Lila is _going to_ scream, and she can feel it building in her chest.

"So have fun," Adrien says, "and uh - I don't know, send us a postcard?"

"From prison?" Dupain-Cheng asks, mocking. _Mocking, mocking, mocking HER._ For a small while, the Hound had ruled the world. Lila does not even decide what time she goes to sleep. "I don't think they make those. Check the gift shop when you arrive, Lila. Bye now!"

The chorus starts up once more as the smug fucks onscreen wave goodbye and sneer and float, but Lila thinks, for a moment, that she may _just_ keep it together, until -

Dupain-Cheng herself - the _bitch_, the - _the cunt_ \- winks into the camera and toasts to Lila's name.

_She screams._

She shrieks, at the top of her lungs, kicking and thrashing, the chair she had been sat in thrown back across the room. She's trying to attack the screen, where Dupain-Cheng's frozen face smirks out at her, but her wrists are chained to the table and the best she can manage is to hammer her fists against the steel, still screaming even as the wardens wrestle her into submission and drag her from the room.

_"Fuck you, Ladybug!"_ she roars into Dupain-Cheng's serenely smiling face, framed against the blue summer sky, before the door is slammed and all she has left are the grey walls of her prison.

* * *

So this is Lila Rossi, the women of cell block B think to themselves, peering through the bars in their doors to spectate the event. The woman kicks and shrieks, howling like a rabid dog and cursing Ladybug's name. The noise continues long after her cell door is slammed shut again.

A tantrumming child with the cry of a hound.


	15. Miracle Aligner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We're still awake," she points out. "Why haven't we gone to bed?"
> 
> He turns to look at her. "And miss this?" He need not elaborate, and she blushes deeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the new chapter as of 12/05/20! I swapped it's place with "At The End Of The Day" so the story went on sequentially.

Marinette blinks, and opens her eyes onto a blanket of stars.

She's not sure what time it is, nor indeed how long she has been asleep for, but at some point while she lay unconscious, Nathaniel and Nino have both drifted back to their hotel, and so too, it seems, have Chloe and Luka, whether separately or together. She doesn't want to know which; details of their half-formed, perhaps relationship still serve only to confuse her, after nearly a month spent observing them over top of icy cool drinks in Spain.

Adrien and Kagami are still there. When she turns her head to the side she can spot them, just, lying side by side in the sand together. The flames of their dying fire pit flicker in the place, but Marinette is comfortable as is, and won't move to resurrect it.

She faces the sky again, a black velvet spread high above her, and this time Damian is added to her world view. It's his lap her head is cushioned on, and she wonders whether his legs have gone dead by now.

Surely they have.

"Are you awake?" she whispers to him, and he hums in reply, though his head is rested back against the rattan sofa and his eyes are closed.

They have been sat out on this open air veranda - which Chloe flexed her father's name to reserve for their group for the entirety of their stay - for hours now, at first eating and laughing and sharing drinks. Then as the sun began its slow descent through the sky, they each began to settle around the fire pit and exchange their best urban legends instead.

Orange skies turned deep blue almost without notice, and then the sounds of not-so-distant civilisation died away, and it was just them and the sea.

"We are Team Miraculous, you know," Kagami said at one point, around a yawn. "Forever." And everyone cheered, raising whatever drink they had to hand - in Nathaniel's case, an empty Capri-Sun which he re-inflated and tried to give to Luka.

Now, the stars glimmer at her, and Marinette imagines to herself that if she wants, she can reach up and pluck one from the sky, and nestle it in her hair. She thinks it would look good.

"It would," Damian mumbles. "You should sketch the idea for a design out."

"Sorry, I didn't realise I was talking out loud," she says.

He shrugs. "You do it in your sleep enough. Why should it bother me now?"

Going a bit red, she said, "I do _not!"_

"Half an hour ago, you ordered me to go out and gather together some umbrellas." Finally, he opens his eyes and looks at her. "Then you said, 'No, that's a fire hazard. Please Damian, not like last time'."

There's a slight pause. "You do have a tendency to set things on fire," she says, slowly sitting up and facing the ocean, as he is.

"And _you_ have a tendency to talk in your sleep," he says.

"Isn't it a bit late for you to be sounding that smug?"

_"Or,_ early. It's two o'clock in the morning."

She groans quietly and scratches at a mosquito bite on her wrist. "Take me to bed, Damian."

A grin curves his lips. "By all means, you know I love to hear you say that."

But neither of them make to move, and why would they? The black waves gently lap at the shore, the moon shines bright...

All is right with the world.

"Tsurugi and Agreste will have all sorts of bugs crawling on them in the morning."

"No, they're not asleep," she says, observing carefully the small movements their figures make; in sync with each other to a near perfect degree.

"Then they'll be dead tired. I for one will not deal with Tsurugi's short temper, nor Lahiffe's whining if they make us late to his snorkeling expedition."

_"We're_ still awake," she points out, "and your temper when you haven't slept is worse than Kagami's." It was something else that she and Adrien were now united in, in fact. "Why haven't we gone to bed?"

He turns to look at her. "And miss this?" He need not elaborate, and she blushes deeper. "One day soon, Marinette, this sojourn to Spain will be at an end, and then it's Gotham for me, Paris for you."

"Only for a few weeks," she says, drawing patterns with her finger on the sofa cushion between them. "Jason said he'd escort me to Gotham personally, remember?"

He hums low in his throat. "Then why, tell me, would I want to cut even one moment of this short?"

He gestures outward, at the spread of nature before them, but he's looking at her. The forest behind them, which separates them from their hotel as the sand does from the sea, teems quietly with wildlife.

Marinette takes his hand in hers and he laces their fingers together. She settles in against his side and looks out over the sparkling water.

"Well," she says, "maybe we can stay up for a little while longer."


	16. At The End Of The Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian isn't listening, though he's good at pretending otherwise; Marinette was supposed to be back by now. Something must have happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 12/05/20: The new chapter is fifteen, not this one!

Richard is bleating on about something or other to Father. Damian thinks it's probably the Riddler, who they have just finished dealing with. They're congregated in the Batcave and Damian isn't listening, though he's good at pretending otherwise.

Marinette was supposed to be back by now. Something must have happened.

He glances again towards the entrance of the cave, but all is still. She left hours ago with Spoiler, in a bid to track down Poison Ivy who was causing her usual havoc. At some point, their comms failed and their lines of communication died.

Damian hisses and sucks in a sharp breath, when the suturing needle Alfred has been sticking him with manages to hit an especially sensitive spot. The butler raises his eyebrows but stays silent, and Damian grits his teeth, getting himself back under control. Drake, who managed to escape the evening unscathed, the bastard, sends Damian a tight smile, then the doors leading back inside the manor open and Brown appears, in Spoiler's suit. She's tired but grinning, and Drake's moody aura lightens.

"Hey demon, _your girlfriend's back!"_ she trills, skipping down the stairs to them. "She's fine, but tired. Ivy put her through the ringer tonight."

Damian's fists clench and he resists the urge to leave immediately and go to her side, because Alfred is yet to be done stitching and is looking at Damian like he knows exactly that he is thinking of. Besides, Father and Richard both seem to be gearing up to tell him to stay put, and he won't give them the satisfaction of getting to. He relaxes his tensed limbs and breathes out slowly.

As the meeting continues Drake meets his eye and gives him a nod, as Brown, now at his side, tells Father of Ivy's latest foiled plot.

_Marinette is okay._

The rest of the meeting speeds by and before Damian knows it, Alfred has finished stitching him back together and is declaring him a free agent. He decides to use this new-found freedom to vacate the Batcave, as Father and Richard are wrapping things up.

"Well, that's everything, baby bird!" Richard calls to his retreating back. "I guess you can leave! By all means!"

"The meeting is done with, yes?" he asks, trying not to run in order to maintain some modicum of dignity. "There's no need for me to waste any more of my time here. Goodnight."

He knows the manor is a big place, but the walk from the Cave to Marinette's room has never taken so long and his legs burn from exertion by the time he's knocking on the door and stepping inside.

Then there she is, a silhouette against the window.

She's gathering together her night things so she can take a shower, and no wonder; the rain has matted her hair together and trapped the latest of Ivy's pollens, making it stick to her. It's on her face too, and the rest of her body, which is also beginning to show bruising. She has rarely looked in such desperate condition. He could bury his face in her hair and breathe her in nonetheless.

"Hey, Damian." She sounds desperate too; desperately tired. Her pajamas are being held at an arms length and she doesn't wait for a reply to slope towards her adjoined bathroom.

He follows her in and closes the door. "Brown said you were okay."

"I am, it just looks bad."

"What_ happened?"_

"Poison Ivy," she says, and the shortness of her answers warn him off pushing her for more.

She stands staring at the shower like she's just realised she has to move to get in. He sees her chest rise and fall in a sigh, and gets moving himself, first putting his phone down by the sink. Marinette watches him do this, and slowly starts to undress.

"Ivy was ready for us," she said. "It was an ambush." Had Damian been listening to Brown's report he might have known this. He tried not to wince. "Stephanie didn't get it as bad as me, but she'll have her own bruises."

He unsticks his throat. "We always do."

He can see hers now, all of them, mottling in yellow and green along her side, beneath the fabric of her sports bra and the waistband of her leggins. It's going to give her a lot of trouble come the morning, but it's the red circle, angry and stark against her pale skin, that his eyes linger on. Ivy beat her so badly that even Ladybug's suit hadn't helped. He steps closer, inspecting the pollen matted in her hair and noting now he's closer how she shivers minutely.

"Is it dangerous?" he asks, referring to the pollen.

"It's just a knock-out variety. The rain made its agents inactive, I just need to wash it all out."

He reaches out but stops short of touching her, instead ghosting his hand over the crown of her head, the nape of her neck, which is bruising as well.

"Brown said you were fine," he says, again. "This is not_ fine."_

"I've been bruised before, Damian," she says, inspecting her bra, where pollen has soaked into the straps. She throws it to the floor.

It will have to be burned, he thinks. "This isn't _some bruising,_ Marinette. You're one big bruise right now. You should have told Brown." She mutters something and goes to set the shower temperature. "What?"

She sighs again. "I'm fine, Damian. Besides, I've only been here since the end of the summer. That's _two weeks._ I can't need help this early -"

_"What?"_

"- if I want to be taken seriously."

He takes a long, calming breath. "What makes you think you aren't already? A few months ago you defeated three supervillains at once, and now you're worried you aren't taken seriously?"

"Gotham and Paris are worlds away from each other," she says. "I proved myself there, now I have to do the same thing here."

"No, you _don't._ Where are you getting this from?"

Again, she fails to answer, but the look on her face makes her think someone said something to her.

"What did Poison Ivy do?"

"I think Stephanie said she was planning a break out on Ark-"

"No, what did she do to _you?_ What did she say that made you think you needed to prove yourself here?"

Marinette turns on the shower more roughly than necessary, and steps inside. Damian stands beside the glass, ignoring the haze of water escaping the chamber and getting him lightly soaked as well.

"Shall I ask Brown?" he asks, raising his voice to be heard. She still doesn't reply. "If she heard Ivy say anything, she'll tell me. You'd may as well do it yourself."

Finally, she gives him something. "It wasn't Poison Ivy."

Alarm jolts through him at that as he tries to figure out which additional villain they met who might have told her this. Again, he thinks he should have listened to -"

"Stephanie."

"What?"

"Stephanie said it."

"Said what?" Then his brain catches up with his mouth. "It was _her?_ Tell me what she said, and I'll see she suffers duly."

"You won't do any such thing." The shower turns off and she gropes for her towel. He presses it into her hand and stares at his phone, thinking about how easy it would be to phone her now for a good, therapeutic yell.

"It wasn't on purpose, she just didn't think." Marinette has wrapped the towel around herself and is twisting her hair into a turban.

"That sounds like Brown," he admits, with a sharp sneer. He catches her disapproving look. "She upset you, Marinette, because she wasn't thinking. You got hurt because she wasn't thinking."

"It was an honest mistake, and I really am okay. I don't want her to think I can't take a joke."

"Oh? And what was the 'joke'?" he asks, watching her toweled head pop up through the neck of her cream pajama top. She takes the turban off then, and shakes her damp hair out.

"She just... _implied_ that Gotham's villains were a step up from Hawkmoth. Said people like Ivy and the Joker don't need a Miraculous to be evil."

His jaw clenches, because _technically_ Brown isn't wrong; what makes Gotham's villains so dangerous is that nothing short of death can stop them forever, but that careless mouth of hers must have phrased it less delicately than Marinette if she was upset enough to let the woman think that she had escaped their encounter scrape-free.

"The Miraculous villains weren't _push-overs_. Their powers alone were incredible, combined they were nearly unstoppable. The fight here is _different,_ not necessarily harder. You have nothing to prove, Marinette. You're_ Ladybug." _He knew Brown would be mortified if she knew what her words had done; she was an official member of the Ladybug Fan Club.

Her smile is wan. "You're sweet."

"I'm being serious, habibti. You answer to no one here, understand me?" He pauses, reconsiders, adds, "Well, except for Alfred, but we _all_ answer to him."

She laughs, and looks at herself in the mirror, appearance unassuming but the power beneath the facade unimaginable. "Okay, bobcat. I got it."

"I hope so. You'll consent to Alfred giving you a check-over in the morning? Once you've rested?"

"Sure. I'd not deign to go against the master of the house."

He pauses. "Me?"

_"Alfred."_

"Of course. I knew what you meant. It was a test of your cognitive comprehension." He clears his throat. "And I'll speak to Brown."

"Damian, no -"

"Just find a way of slipping Hawkmoth into the conversation. Remind her what you're capable of." He stares at her, and the brightness in her eyes despite how tired they are, and the small bead of condensation rolling down her forehead. "I'm glad you're here," he whispers, pulling her into him.

She's still warm and damp from the shower, pliable enough for him to guide her from the bathroom now that she's washed away the tension. She falls onto the bed and curls into the duvet.

"Me too," she says. "God, me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting out a one-shot before New Horizons releases, so I can sink all my time into it without feeling guilt for ignoring other parts of my life. Hope you enjoyed! Please let me know if you did, and keep yourselves safe out there! Wash your hands, and self-isolate (with New Horizons, like me)!


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